


No Choice in the Matter

by StripySock



Series: A World without choices [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: A/B/O, Accidental Relationship, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bonding, Drunk Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripySock/pseuds/StripySock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonded to someone he loathes, Jared has to navigate a path he never expected to follow, and to fight against something he has no choice in.</p><p>Sequel to Intolerable Cruelty</p><p> </p><p>FINISHED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To give fair warning, this chapter is pretty solidly worldbuilding, and the story itself (though after this chapter it'll mostly be about Jensen and Jared's uneasy relationship) is quite focused on it. Rated Explicit for scenes in the next chapter.
> 
> Starts almost from the moment the other one left off.

Jared fished in his desk drawer hoping against hope he had some wipes or even some tissues stashed in there, but coming up short. With a grimace of distaste he resigned himself to having to spray himself with deodorant and make a dash to the loos as quickly as he could. Jensen now on the other side of the desk was zipping up his pants and avoiding his eyes as though either ashamed or disgusted. Jared felt a sick helpless wave of dislike wash over him, and fought back an insane urge to punch something or scream or even just crouch on the floor and wrap his arms around himself and hope that this was some twisted dream that his subconscious had dreamed up especially for him after an over indulgence in cheese.

He didn’t do any of them though, just stood and waited for Jensen to be done. They didn’t exchange a word as arms folded Jared watched Jensen push back the filing cabinet from where it had blocked the door and left. He waited five minutes, eyes on the clock watching every second pass before he left the room and hurried to the bathroom studiously ignoring the two people he passed. He saw Alison’s nose wrinkle and turned his face away, feeling it burn with embarrassment. Once inside he sank down onto the toilet seat and breathed in deeply, steadily. First things first, before he thought about bonding, collars, Jensen, work permits, he had to clean up. Had to get rid of the worst of the slick, the worst of the come, so that every person he walked past didn’t know he’d been fucked stupid by Jensen, bent over the desk like every omega porn movie ever, the only thing missing the breathy little sighs about how _big_ the cock they were being fucked with was. 

Handfuls of tissue later, soaked in water and the shitty lavender soap that some HR initiative had chosen for its ‘calming’ effect, and his ass and the backs of his thighs felt semi-clean, less as though the scent had been branded on him indelibly, more as though he’d been scrubbed with itchy toilet paper. He finished off with another spray of deodorant, preferring to let his colleagues think that he’d been seized with an attack of awkward teenage boy, than let them know the real truth. 

Back at his desk, reading through the details of the Mirrorlake bid felt like the most surreal thing ever. He couldn’t focus properly, eyes only picking up on snatches of phrases, struggling to synthesise them, until he threw them down and looked back at the ceiling as though the answers to his problems would be written there in stark black and white. Nothing looked back except the blank white tiles, and restlessly he stood, poised for flight with nowhere to go. Get a grip. Jensen hasn’t fucked your brains out, he told himself coldly. He was behaving like the worst stereotype of an omega, wilful, hysterical, unable to cope with the world as it actually was, everything in his life that he’d fought not to be. 

This time he forced himself to concentrate, to read every line ten times over if he had to, to mark them clearly and coolly, to prove that he was worth his salary. The thought of Jensen in his office doubtless getting down to grips with exactly this project spurred him on with grim determination. They had a meeting this afternoon with the execs, they needed everything done, dusted and perfect. Jeff was relying on them, the _company_ was relying on them, and there was no way in hell he’d let Jensen sneer at the thought that getting fucked that morning had put him so badly off his work. As time passed, his rhythm came back, and he imperceptibly relaxed into it. He knew this back to front, knew every line, had worked on it for weeks, the knowledge wasn’t going to desert him now. 

Taking a five minute break, he made a split second decision. He wasn’t walking into his meeting like this, and picking up the phone he called his neighbour Andy confident he’d be at home. Sure enough he picked up the phone perkily. “Huntingdon residence, how can I help?”

“Hey Andy,” Jared said crossing his fingers hard and hoping against hope. “Could I ask you to do me a massive favour?”

There was silence for a second. Andy and Jared were friendly but they weren’t on the sort of terms that really called for big favours. Jared had been round to dinner a few times before the invitations had tailed off, when Jared had made it firmly clear that he wasn’t interested in meeting alpha friends of theirs. Relations had remained rather static since; Andy would pop by once or twice a month for a coffee and a chat, and although Jared liked Emma, he preferred it like that without the set of skewed social dynamics that came from an alpha and two omegas in a room. 

The Huntingdons retained a traditional household model, Andy served dinner then knelt by the chair Emma sat in, receiving a nod from her when he indicated a wish to join the conversation. To Jared, raised in a non-traditional hippy household where his mom hadn’t even been collared properly, sticking to the often renewed piece of twine her husband had put round her neck on their wedding night, and where though she’d observed the outside rituals pretty strictly (two steps behind, leash on formal occasions, no speech with anyone outside of the pre-approved list,) inside the house it’d been a different story even with guests round. 

“If I can,” Andy finally said, cautiously. 

“Do you remember I left that key with you in case of emergencies? Could you pop in and grab one of my suits, there’s a dry-cleaned one on the back of the door in my bedroom. I can meet you halfway, I just don’t have enough time on my lunchbreak to get home and back. I’d really owe you one.” He clenched his hand around the phone, feeling the tension in his body.

“I don’t know,” was the dubious reply. “I’m not sure Emma would be happy, and I don’t drive so it’d mean public transport.” The few words covered a depth of doubt. Most people from habit took no notice of bonded omegas properly collared and understood that talking to them wasn’t appropriate, but there were always a few who didn’t bother observing common politeness, young packs of betas, lone unbonded alphas who could make trouble. For an omega as traditional and ritualised as Andy travelling without an alpha could be an ordeal. Jared stayed silent, fingers still crossed. After a moment’s silence Andy sighed. “I’ll phone Emma and ask her if I can,” he allowed grudgingly. “You don’t sound well.” With a click he put the phone down, and Jared set the handset down.

Waiting for Andy to ring back, he visualised for a moment a life like that, bounded by walls, rules, restrictions and shuddered. It worked for Andy, he liked the headspace, liked being taken care of and adored by his alpha, had never wanted to work outside the home and for the short time he’d done so hadn’t enjoyed it, didn’t really have much interest in other people, but for Jared the possibility felt like a living death. While he waited, he made a note on his cell reminding himself to call his lawyer, let him know of the change in his status, and to ask for a recommendation for someone experienced in handling unwanted bonds, and hesitantly added in a reminder to call his parents.

A moment later the phone rang and he snatched it up. “Emma says yes,” Andy said without preamble. “I’ll come by in about an hour if you text me the directions.”

Jared breathed out in relief. “Thank you so much,” he said, his gratitude completely genuine. “I owe you guys big-time.” He hesitated for a second then decided in for a penny, in for a pound. “Could you bring some wipes as well?”

Andy’s reply was intrigued. “You mean like baby-wipes, wipes?”

“Yeah,” he said, too desperate now to dissemble. It wasn’t like Andy was going to tell anyone but Emma after all.

Andy thankfully didn’t press the issue, just agreed and rang off. Jared texted him the address and went back to work with renewed concentration. Once he’d thrashed out the final issues with Mirrorlake, he emailed the file to Jensen and Danneel for double checking, and went through the initial bid that Jensen had marked up for him earlier, trying to lose himself in his work again to the exclusion of everything else, until he barely even heard the knock on the door. He tensed up immediately, fearing it’d be Jensen back, but it was just Danneel, the third member of their team, and the coordinator of their bid popping by to check he was ready.

He didn’t resent it from her, she was a compulsive organiser who’d been known to chivvy Jeff into things (something which no-one else had really managed), and her alpha honed personality had channelled itself remarkably well into welding a workable team out of the three of them, mostly by insisting that they kept their personal feelings out of the office and enforcing it. Now she stood there looking at him quizzically. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right Jared?”

The inquiry struck him on the raw particularly as he was feeling decidedly not all right, and he replied a little more harshly than he’d meant to. “I’m fine. There’s no need to fuss.”

Danneel looked at him levelly for a long, long second and he cringed internally, fighting the urge to bow his shoulders, lower his head and apologise. It wasn’t a look she usually turned on him, but for that moment he wished that it were even Jensen in the room instead. People often forgot just how focused and how strongly alpha Danneel was, and while she might cultivate it from their competition and their customers she didn’t like it from her co-workers. His nose still extra-sensitive from his heat the day before was picking up on her displeasure as well, and adding to his need to metaphorically roll over. Never one to over do it though, she blinked and let him go. “We need to be in peak shape for this meeting,” she said, her voice not revealing a hint of what had just happened. “All three of us need to be on the ball, and rolling with the punches.”

He nodded, mentally already psyching himself up, absurdly pleased that he hadn’t given in to the urge to apologise. The fact that he was an omega meant the contract negotiators often tried to focus their efforts on him rather than anyone else in the room, trying to get him to weaken, allow them to gain a foothold by interjecting their voice subtly with command-echos, and the more practice he had in ignoring them the better. “Sure. We should probably thrash out the section two details first.”

She bent her head over the relevant section that he pointed out and agreed. They’d been over this multiple times before, but it never hurt to cover the ground just once more. Before she left to collect her things, she grinned at him a bit cheekily. “If you’re playing Buzzword Bingo, I’ll be pissed if you’ve forgotten on the ball and rolling with the punches.” His face relaxed into a genuine smile.

His phone buzzed on the desk, nearly vibrating itself off. Catching it he read the text. “In the lobby. Andy.” Taking the elevator down he stared fixedly at the floor rather than his reflected face in front of him, pretending to be so engrossed in his shoes that he didn’t have room in his mind for anything else. Even in the short space of a minute away from his work and other people the intrusive thoughts were coming back, sending his blood pressure spiralling. He had to get over this, couldn’t let everything that reminded him of the biggest mistake of his life impinge on him. 

Andy was bouncing impatiently on his toes by the time he arrived, a dry-cleaning bag over one shoulder and a drugstore bag in the other. He handed them to Jared who thanked him immediately and profusely. He had an hour before the meeting, plenty of time to get changed and properly cleaned up. He hadn’t bargained on Andy being quite so sharp though. He was staring at Jared pretty sharply. “Did you _bond?_ he asked in a whisper.

Jared stared at him in shock. He hadn’t known himself until Jensen had told him. What on earth sort of signals was he sending out? Denial sprang automatically to his lips. “Of course not,” he said instantly. “Who would I bond with? _Why_ would I bond with anyone?” Aware of how frantic he sounded he shut up, cursing his inability to remain calm.

Andy raised an eyebrow. ”I can sense something different,” he said, leaving Jared to remember that Jesus fucking hell before bonding Andy _had_ worked, as a therapist adjunct, his ability to project calm on a small scale, and to receive a limited range of emotions ranking him as a level five empath. Low enough, but more than sufficient to detect such a big change. Since his pairing, he’d ceased work of course, his gift mostly shut off by the fact that his bond now formed his primary emotional input. Andy watched him put it together. “Who is it?” he asked curiously.

Jared didn’t bother denying it anymore. “I’ll tell you everything when I get home,” he said. “I don’t have time right now. Thank you so much for bringing the suit I appreciate it more than I can say.” He backed towards the desk, leaving Andy obviously bursting with questions which couldn’t be answered. 

Twenty minutes later, clean, be-suited and booted, he met up with Danneel and Jensen, studiously avoiding the latter’s eyes. He needn’t have bothered, Jensen’s eyes slid over him almost without registering his presence, a feeling Jared found himself disliking far more than their previous antagonism. Jensen didn’t get to dismiss him, to write him off as another slut omega only working until they found their mate. Danneel shot him a puzzled glance, and he consciously relaxed himself. Acting oddly would make her suspicious, and he didn’t want anyone in the office to know about this, not until he knew _everything,_ his legal position, his rights, not until he’d sorted out with Jensen how they were going to fix this.

This finalisation meeting was the last in a long series, and Jensen had really grown to dislike the other companies team, in particular their nominal superior who’d introduced himself with the chummy words ‘call me Martin,’ and had proceeded to plow right on in, into trying to force a deal highly unbeneficial to Morgans, and designed it seemed, merely to raise his own credit in his own company. Jensen had christened the other man ‘slicker,’ though the nasty grin that hovered around his mouth as he said ‘no offence to slickers’ had made it clear it was an unsubtle dig at Jared as well. 

It hadn’t helped him like the other man, that Martin had been first shocked then contemptuous of the fact that Jared was an Omega. It wasn’t like it was obvious after all, he was taller and stockier, than the general stereotype , he scrubbed well enough every morning and wore a heavy enough cologne that you couldn’t smell it off him, and hell he was wearing a suit and sitting in a boardroom. It hadn’t been obvious at least, until the other man had flicked through the documents and noticed the ‘O’ in Jared’s name. His ears burnt hot remembering it, the surprise and disdain that had accompanied the queried ‘Jared _O_ Padalecki, as though there was some mistake, some smudge that changed a B or an A into an O. Danneel had handled it, stepped smoothly into the awkward silence, asked if they had a problem, stared Martin down until he looked away, then looked at Jared kindly in a way that had almost humiliated him more than the ignorant fucker opposite him giving a dose of the disdain he was used to had. He hadn’t been able to muster much warm feeling for Mirrorlake after that, and he was taking a little bit of savage pleasure in eviscerating their accounts today. He could even muster the barest flicker of admiration for Jensen’s generally sandpapery managerial style.

At the end of the meeting with nearly every detail thrashed out, and only two points that needed serious discussion at their final meeting the very next day, Martin had stood and leaned forward to shake their hands, heading straight for Danneel first then Jensen, and hesitating a second before offering his hand to Jared who wished he could crush it with his own. For the sake of the deal he restrained himself, and shook the limp hand profered once before dropping it quickly, unnerved by the sharp sting of feeling he felt. He’d tested as almostly completely null psy at birth and then again at puberty (which had ironically raised fears from his parents that he wouldn’t be able to bond at all as complete nulls generally couldn’t regardless of their biology.) He wondered if he should get himself retested- a bond in unlikely circumstances, and now this. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been imagining the weird sensation, or the intense look in the other man’s eyes.

He was unsurprised when the other man asked if he could have a minute of his time. The rest left after a quick shake of hands all around, and he turned and faced Martin crossing his arms across his chest before he realised how defensive he looked. “Is there a problem?” he asked coolly. This had happened before. Alphas who didn’t think he should be in the room while a deal was going on, or who wanted to intimidate him for some unknown reason often pulled him aside to tell him what they thought of him. Even worse were the ones who tried to hit on him, or who had the nerve to complain about him not acting in the way they had expected. Being called into Jeff’s office because an outraged Alpha had complained at the underhand tactic of allowing an Omega in the room in an attempt to distract them from the point at hand had been a particular low point.

Martin smiled, a nasty twist of his lips. “I wanted to keep it strictly professional in here during the meeting,” he said, jerking his head at the room. “No need to let this jeopardise the deal after all. But I couldn’t help noticing that you’re registered as unbonded.”

Jared repressed an instinctive reaction to punch the other man. Omega status was a matter of public record, but it did require you actually bothering to go and look it up, and it was a shitty and intrusive thing to do. Cold as ice he replied. “What’s my status to you?”

“Nothing to me,” Martin replied smoothly. “I’m bonded already.” Like that wasn’t obvious, with the bonding bracelet showing just beneath one wankerish double cuff. “But I think it’d be of interest to your boss and the rest of your team that you haven’t declared your new bond. Can’t be bothered to file the waivers and announcement, or just too stupid? Did you think people wouldn't notice? The two of you are utterly and completely obvious, it was rolling off you like you'd only bonded this morning or something.” Jared was pretty sure that was an exaggeration. He'd already spotted that the bonding bracelet was marked with a empathy level five like Andy's. Martin paused as though to let Jared reply, and when met with silence he continued. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that it’s a civil offence not to amend your status immediately.”

Jared met his eyes with a level gaze. This was a new brand of bullshit. “What makes you think I haven’t?” he asked steadily. “Since you seem to be keeping yourself up to date with my life. It takes time to change papers and be registered after all.” There was a flicker of doubt in Martin’s eyes, and he continued. “As you said, let’s keep this strictly professional. I don’t need to explain anything to you, you’re not my boss, you’re not the city council, so keep the fuck out of this.” He injected the deliberate obscenity with every ounce of force he could muster, imbuing it with all the disdain he could manage while feeling cold and shocked inside. 

It was obvious what Martin’s game was. What he was saying was technically true, a same-day registering of bond acknowledgement was standard, could be done by text, phone call, internet, but in practice there was lee-way, the actual ceremony didn’t have to take place for months, just the cursory registration and getting an ID bracelet. How he was saying it was a whole other matter, the implicit blackmail that lurked behind his words grating to the ears. It mattered to Jared, bonding meant a re-negotiation of your contract with your employer and a whole ton of things that didn’t matter to Jensen, and now the time he’d hoped to get things sorted out in was rapidly vanishing in front of his eyes.

There was a moment of tension where Martin leaned forward. “I’m not sure if you understand Jared,” he said, and his words were clear and cold. “Mirrorlake wants this deal, but we want it at 7% not 5%, and I can assure you that we will get it. This means more to your boss than you do, and if we pull out because there’s an irregular Omega fouling up the works with sloppy thinking, and even sloppier paperwork it’ll be your job at stake. Tomorrow, I expect you to have come round to our way of thinking on this.” He smiled with no warmth. “I’m sure you can get yourself all registered up tonight, but you know what that means.” 

Two mandatory weeks off work, for doctor visits, the ceremony, the honeymoon and first heat as a bonded couple. The time most couples dreamed of with excitement, and planned meticulously for. Two weeks where not only would he be off the deal after every scrap of hard work he’d done to make it happen, but so would _Jensen_ and despite his internal resolve not to quail, he couldn’t imagine the sort of shitstorm that would result from that. Something must have shown in his eyes because Martin gave a satisfied nod without another word, leaving Jared alone and irresolute in the room. 

His common-sense told him to go to Jeff, even to Jensen or Danneel and tell them about this. It was blackmail of the worst sort and he knew they wouldn’t, couldn’t capitulate to it. But everything that Martin said held true. Him being unregistered was grounds for complaint, was grounds for Mirrorlake backing out of a deal that Morgans did need, while trumpeting the reason why far and wide. Him registering and avoiding that was impossible. But equally it seemed like forcing through a change in _favour_ of the other company was impossible, and would throw his whole career into jeopardy.

Slowly he gathered up his papers and left the room. This day just kept getting shittier and shittier. Jensen leaning on the door-frame outside waiting for him wasn’t going to help matters either. He felt a tingle of desire and squashed it right down, grimly getting hold of himself. Being bonded was turning out to be a nightmare of epic proportions. He had seen the momentary flare in Jensen’s eyes as well, a moment of hot fire as quickly suppressed and replaced with the indolent look of dislike he sometimes affected. He pushed deliberately past, sucking in a breath as even that minor contact sharpened his senses. When they’d done sex education classes in school, they’d never mentioned this, never mentioned how proximity could alter your perceptions, and make you crave your mate. But then there hadn’t been much need probably. Most people _wanted_ to fuck their partner all the time, not punch them in the face.

Jensen followed him, and Jared felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. "What do you want?" he demanded. He meant to sound firm and confrontational but he just sounded tired to his own ears. 

Jensen passed him and stopped, turning around to face him. "We need to talk this through," he said, and his voice was exhausted as well. Looking closer Jared could see that the strain of the day had taken it's toll on Jensen also, his face fatigued and worn looking. He remembered as though from nowhere that you were meant to spend time close together after bonding, meant to lie in each others arms; savour the warmth and the closeness, and get used to the sensation knowing you'd do it for the rest of your natural life. He couldn't imagine cuddling Jensen, or being cuddled by him, couldn't imagine touching him without wanting to fuck or throw up. Not a bone of his body actually believed that one day the dry burning edge of need and dislike would dissipate into the companionship and soul-deep closeness shared by most couples. 

He couldn't deny that this needed discussion though, in all fairness this affected Jensen nearly as much as it did him. "I know," he replied, complete weariness saturating him all of a sudden. It was all too hard to take in. Yesterday morning he'd been free, single, with a great job, working towards living a lifestyle his grandparents wouldn't even have been able to imagine, today he had a partner and his job was in jeopardy unless he betrayed his principles and still maybe then. "Come on. Let's go to my place." He knew what that entailed, knew how the night would probably end, but right now he was too tired to care.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the time taken. Updates should be significantly faster from now, since I've had a chance to plan it a little.

He parked the car in the driveway, and hesitated as he got his keys out to open the door. All of a sudden he felt a peculiar reluctance to let Jensen in. This was _his_ house, his space, something he’d worked for. Letting Jensen in felt like he was giving something personal away about himself, as though even the colours on the wall would reveal something essential about himself. It was a ridiculous thought and he shook it off as he pushed open the door, and headed straight for the kitchen. It was easily his favourite room in the house, and he could feel some of the tension start to leave his shoulders as he went for the kettle. “Something to drink?” he asked Jensen, the first words he’d addressed to him since they’d entered.

“Water thanks,” Jensen said, glancing round, eyes taking in the cork noticeboard with Jared’s appointments pinned up on it. Jared felt the colour flood to his cheeks when he saw the Dr’s appointment for Saturday prominently displayed, the yellow paper marking it out as a catch up at his endocrinologist. Not for the first time he silently bemoaned the cutesy habit that seemed to have caught on a few years ago and not yet run its course, of using different coloured papers for omegas.

Jared grabbed a bottle of still water from the fridge, a habit he’d gotten into while the pipes had been being fixed last year, and put it in front of Jensen, while he waited for the kettle to boil. “Careful of that chair,” he said, “it’s got a wobbly leg.” Part of him childishly wished he’d held his tongue and let Jensen inevitably crash down to the floor, but he was being adult and grown-up about this, and there was no point hurting the alpha’s pride just for the sake of it.

“Thanks,” said Jensen as though it’d been torn out of him, and shifted to a different chair. “I didn’t peg you for a tea-drinker.”

Jared slanted an amused look at him. “What did you think I drink?” 

He got a shrug in reply, as though Jensen was already bored of the conversation, and he bit back his immediate annoyance, the tinge of dislike that was always present flaring a little higher. Why the fuck couldn’t Jensen just be _polite?_ It wasn’t that difficult. Except of course Jensen was an alpha. Why would he pay attention to the sort of niceties omegas indulged in to pretend they had even a little bit of control? With more than necessary force he slammed the mug on the counter, and splashed the now boiling water in. The silence was awkward between them, as though there was nothing to be said, or at least no place to start.

Sitting down on the chair, Jared cupped his hands around his mug, taking some comfort from the warmth, and watched Jensen drink from the bottle, throat swallowing awkwardly, every long line of his body embodying discomfort. “Have you told anyone?” Jared asked suddenly, tired of waiting for Jensen to alpha the fuck up and talk.

“No.” Jensen left it there for a moment then continued. “I don’t think we should tell anyone yet. It’s too difficult to explain, there’s too many questions. I want to get those sorted, get our story straight before I tell work or my parents. It’s going to be difficult enough explaining why you.”

The casual dismissal struck Jared on the raw. “You’re not exactly what I was looking for either,” he said coldly, and had to restrain his temper when he saw Jensen raise an incredulous eyebrow, as though he thought this was something that Jared could ever have wanted. How arrogant could one person _get?_

“Really?” said Jensen, and the sneer on his face saturated his voice. “Looks to me like you’ve got everything you could want.” He gestured at Jared, “an alpha to take care of you, you don’t have to work anymore, you don’t have to do anything, except sit around the house and pop out children.”

Jared could have killed him there and then, left him bleeding out on the floor and not regretted it for a moment. Only shreds of common sense held him back (a long slow lingering and traumatic death for himself, with his last painful months spent in prison was not a consequence to be sniffed at) but it was a near thing and he had to turn away, couldn’t bear to look at the ridiculous man in front of him talking about things he’d never have to understand or live with. “Shut the fuck up,” he said and his voice for the first time showed the limits of his control. “I mean it, shut the fuck up or leave before I throw you out.”

Jensen stood, walked closer to him, and looked up, and even at this moment Jared found a source of humour in that. “Or what?” he breathed. “You’ll try and hit me?” There was a level of derision in his voice, and underneath it something painfully scared, as though this was all too futile even for him, and it brought Jared back to himself. As long as Jensen was scared too, as long as he hated this as much as Jared then all was not lost. Misery loves company after all. He relaxed his shoulders, let the tension seep out and looked away.

“Sit down Jensen,” he said quietly, and to his surprise the other man did just that. “We need to get some things straight. I don’t want children first of all.” He clenched his hands under the table and prayed like he’d never done before in his life. This was the sticking point, the crucial one. Jensen had a right to children under the law, had a right to demand professional mediation that would determine how long Jared could reasonably deny him them. This was the one point of law that would never change, could never change as long as new bodies were needed, the population had to keep stable after all.

“I’m fine with that,” Jensen replied promptly, devastatingly. “But you have to give me something in return. I want a free-pass.” Jared flushed. He hated Jensen, hated this entire sick, twisted set-up but that still hit him in the gut, in an instinctive place that screamed _no_ at the very thought. Free-passes were given to alphas in unhappy relationships, as long as they were open about being bonded, they could fuck other people. Things had to be in an extremely bad state though. Even for someone who was practically psi-null in the same way that Jared was it carried an emotional price and a mental one, knowing that your mate was sleeping with someone else, choosing them over you, however glad you might be that they were doing so.

When he’d still been young and naive enough to imagine that he could change things, that protests and studies and surveys would be enough to alter the world and make it a fairer place, he’d casually brushed the idea of free-passes aside. In one way they freed omegas after all, prevented them from having to sleep with an alpha who didn’t want them but needed the release, shunted the responsibility onto someone else. So much as he thought about them at all, he’d only wished that omegas had that option as well, regretted a biology that caused such fierce jealousy in the alpha even when the mind didn’t care. Now though he understood why no-one, not even alphas wanted them. You had to be pretty far gone to demand it, and in this one thing the law was on the side of omegas. Fucking around outside of the bond had to be sanctioned.

But there was a price to everything, and if the price of being free to keep working, to keep independent, to have his own money, all the things he’d lose as soon as he had a child, was taking the pain of a free-pass bond then so be it. He nodded. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear about it and you never under any circumstances bring them back here.” As soon as he said that he regretted the words. It made it sound like he expected Jensen to move in here, when the usual course of events meant he’d have to move in with Jensen instead. To his surprise Jensen didn’t seem to pick up on that at all though, just sat there silent.

There were so many things they needed to talk about, so many things to discuss that the sheer weight of it pressed down on Jared like a giant stone on his back and clogging his throat. There was just too much, too many details, and Jensen was no help at all. Selfish, vicious Jensen, and stupid fucking Jared what a pair they made, he thought aware that he wasn’t being fair, not caring in the least. An inner voice that sounded like his mother’s, told him to stop being such a child, to bear up and take it like the rational human he’d always insisted that he was. Hard advice to take when you were faced with pretty alpha Jensen who’d told you straight that he didn’t even want to fuck you if he could help it, and who left an unexpected ache deep inside Jared that he didn’t know what to do with.

It was no longer unexpected, the sudden flip his stomach made when he got too close to Jensen but that didn’t mean it was wanted, not the sudden rush of warmth through him, or how the thoughts began to crowd his mind about how they shouldn’t even be talking, or thinking, not as early as this, they should be fucking instead. His mind happily and readily supplied him with images from their previous fucks, tailored and edited them, gave him the scenario of Jensen bending him over this kitchen table and fucking him hard until the New York Times he’d brought home to read was ruined, or of those full lips wrapped around his cock sucking him down deep until he lost himself in the warm wetness of Jensen’s mouth (his subconscious gave a snort at that one- fat chance, he knew Jensen’s type,) of him pushing Jensen down to the floor, holding him there, teasing him with his wet hole, promising to ride him but never taking him in until neither of them could bear it any longer and Jensen just fucked him, pulled him down and took what he wanted. The thoughts didn’t feel organic he noticed vaguely, didn’t feel like they came from him, more as though they were random scenes he’d generated in some odd fantasyland.

 

When the doorbell rang, they both flinched, shaken out of equally unpleasant thoughts. Jared excused himself and went to open, to find Andy standing there with an excited look on his face. The instant the door opened though the look vanished, and was replaced with a deeply troubled expression. Jared realised the animosity coming off him and Jensen must be upsetting to someone sensitive enough to sense it, and with a massive effort tried to dampen it down though he wasn’t sure if it worked. “I can come back later,” Andy said, already beginning to turn and leave, and suddenly desperate Jared clutched at his sleeve.

“No,” he said almost violently, then managed to moderate himself a little. “I mean, we’re not doing anything, do come in.” He let go of Andy’s jacket, ashamed of himself. Touching another Omega like that was rude at the best of times, and doubly worse with someone who was a little more psi-sensitive than the average. Holding the door opened, he ushered Andy in, then stopped in agitation before they reached the kitchen. It seemed his day to be making rude mistakes. “Actually it might be better if you went. Jensen’s here...” he let his words trail off.

Andy gave him a calm look. “He’s bonded to you,” he said reasonably. “Emma won’t mind that.” He said it with the surest confidence, and Jared wished he could imagine ever getting to the point where he could tell what Jensen Ackles would think on any given subject. Deciding not to protest he led the way back into the kitchen. 

Andy didn’t shake hands but he did smile warmly, and Jensen smiled cautiously back, the surprisingly genuine smile sitting oddly on a face that had been angry so recently. He looked nicer with a smile, Jared noticed with a remoteness that surprised him a little bit. “I’m Andy, Jared’s neighbour. I just popped by to say hi really, but it’s nice to get a chance to meet you.”

Jensen stood up. “I was just about to go,” he said politely, “but it’s nice to meet you as well.” His eyes passed over Andy’s ornater than usual bonding bracelet, and the old fashioned collar under his t-shirt, and Jared could see him coming instantly to conclusions. No wonder he was being so polite, Andy was no threat to anyone, fitted perfectly into Jensen’s worldview. Andy ventured a little further into the room, and Jared was rocked by a sudden aggressive anger at Andy being too close to Jensen. He managed to squash it down, shocked by his over the top and out of character reaction. He didn’t believe for a second Andy of all people had any designs on Jensen, and wouldn’t care if he did, yet still the helpless fruitless rage swept through him, and he glimpsed for a moment the unbending power of the biological forces that underpinned their very society.

He turned away to hide his face not sure if he’d covered his reaction fast enough, hoping neither of them would remark on it, not listening to Andy re-assert his intention to leave, focusing only on putting the mugs into the dishwasher. He looked up to see the tail-end of a look passing between them and suddenly angry he wanted them out. As much as he’d wanted to screw Jensen just minutes before, had wanted to claim him as _his,_ he now wanted him to leave to get the hell out and leave him alone, to stop making him feel like so helplessly and pathetically out of control. 

There was an awkward pause at the door, the traditional parting kiss neither offered or asked for, the air thick with tension, and then Jensen was gone, leaving Jared to fight the urge to sag down on a chair and just rest. When he turned away from the door, from watching Jensen leave, Andy was looking at him with watchful eyes that struck Jared on the raw, let him know that right now he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to have to tell Andy about this, about what a fucking screw-up this whole situation was. 

Andy, bless him sensed that though which way Jared didn’t know. “Now isn’t a good time,” he said calmly, and it wasn’t a question. “Come and see me when you feel up to it.” Like a lithe shadow he slipped round the door, and Jared called out after him.

“Thank you again for the suit.” He saw Andy’s hand raised in acknowledgement, and then finally he was alone in the house. The kitchen felt alien and unfamiliar around him suddenly, bleak and featureless as though it had been ten years since he’d been here, instead of ten hours. This time last night he’d stumbled in, Jensen’s come and his own slick soaking through his boxers, and showered more times than he’d thought he could bear, until his skin was red raw and sensitive and he smelled like himself again. Again the yellow paper of his doctor’s appointment caught his eye and he sighed. Best to get that shifted and done with, leave himself time to think about what the hell he was going to do about the Mirrorlake business.

 

It took twenty frustrating minutes on the phone to get through to his doctor and explain that yes this _was_ an emergency, he needed his appointment moved forward considerably, no it couldn’t be dealt with at hospital or by a nurse, that he’s bonded, his needs have changed substantially and that primary care is urgent. He’s still not sure if the urgency has sank in, but then to the doctor this is usual he guesses. Bonded. Finally he gets them to agree to a Friday afternoon appointment, half an hour after the meeting finishes. He’ll have to rush, make his excuses and be gone, no way he can let it overrun. He needs a second opinion and fast. 

If it was anyone else missing an appointment would be bad but not terrible, but he needs to see Dr Watary specifically. As one of the only doctors in town whose charter guaranteed medical privacy to omegas she was so much in demand it was unreal. She still didn’t make the kind of money other doctors did from selling on their patient’s sexual records though. Sexual history, health, insurance coverage, fertility, even prescription information, a few hundred dollars and a sob-story about needing to make sure before you got bonded and it was in the hands of whoever wanted it. And if you got caught? A slap on the wrist from a judge, and a reminder that that information was personal for a reason. 

His hands were cold as he put down on the phone, and he pressed it to his face for a moment, covering his eyes. Doctors, lawyers, his family. It had never seemed like a dream to him, all too uncomfortably real, the scenario was one he’d dreaded since he’d undergone the change and realised what he was. He’d been so late even by the ever-lengthening age of puberty, his parents had been so hopeful that he was exactly what he seemed like, an unassuming beta, already making plans for him, because there wasn’t anything _wrong_ with being an omega, as his omega-mother had told him earnestly. It just made life different. The unspoken undercurrent had been there. 

When he’d hit fifteen and still no signs they’d begun to relax, started to make plans for college. Then one and a half months before his sixteenth birthday, it’d happened, he’d woken in the throes of first heat, had had to take the shame of being rushed to hospital, half dressed in his pajama bottoms because it’d been so violent. He wasn’t even one of the unusual ones, not anymore. Puberty had been getting later and later since the turn of the century. Where once your status was cleared by twelve, now the general trend was to fourteen or fifteen. That hadn’t made it any easier though, held down by doctors to take his readings, and when the grim faced nurse who’d given him the medical facts, explained to him what to do in heats where he didn’t have a partner, told him his duty to his family, himself and society was to find someone as quickly as possible and bond with them, he’d known at that moment with a cold certainty that there was nothing he’d wanted less in the world.

He was still wet from earlier from prolonged exposure to Jensen, and he shifted uncomfortably, that was another question to ask the doctor. He couldn’t stand the visceral sensation of his body’s reaction. There must be a way to stop it from happening when he got too close to Jensen, he couldn’t live his life permanently on the edge of arousal when he got too close to the person he was supposed to be working with. Though really that couldn’t be too common a problem. Most people didn’t work that closely with each other. The itch under his skin was stronger now, prickles of arousal flaring up and he sat down on the sofa and tried to ignore it. His cock was half hard against his thigh, and no matter how many channels he flicked through nothing seemed to dampen his excitement, his hole still remembered the solid weight of Jensen in it, his dick the rough touch of Jensen’s hands, his body the intangible scent of his mate and of possession, and with a silent sigh he gave the Discovery channel up for lost and made his way upstairs.

In a drawer under the bed lived the lube, and the three toys that were his one concession to being in heat. He’d never used them outside of heat before, preferring his own hand and the assistance of his fingers when he couldn’t help it anymore. Now flopping back on the bed, he kicked off his pants and boxers and picked up the innocuous white vibrating dildo and hefted it automatically, gauging the weight. When he was in heat all he wanted was _more,_ more dick, more clit, more fingers, more kisses, and even toys couldn’t give you that which is why he’d never seen the point of them much. This was different now. If he was going to feel like this around Jensen all the time, he needed something to take the edge of it off. 

He’d noticed an upswing in his self-lubrication since the bond, knew his body was changing, preparing itself for his mate, where before it had only been during heats, now all he had to do was be too near to Jensen for too long. Lying like this now though it’d stopped and with a muffled sigh he squeezed a splash of lube onto his hand, rubbed his fingers together to warm it, then with almost no care slid two fingers in, not bothering with play, wanting to get off as hard and fast as possible, wear himself out so he could sleep tonight. His dick was already hard, and absently he palmed it, enjoying the sensation. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, focus on nothing but how this felt, but despite his best efforts Jensen insisted on appearing. 

Once again his traitorous body betrayed him, he could feel himself growing harder when he imagined Jensen’s hands trailing over his body, strong certain fingers digging in deep making him relax, and he shuddered, nipples tightening and darkening in the cool air of the room, hips lifting a little upward. With a sense of disloyalty to himself he let it happen. This was what a bond was supposed to be like. You were _supposed_ to fantasise about your partner, supposed to dream about how they felt next to you, how every inch of their body matched yours, could wring the maximum amount of pleasure from you. Supposed to enjoy it when they fucked you slowly and deeply and made you feel every inch. Without noticing it his hand had sped up, his fingers had pushed deeper, opened him wider until he was fucking himself awkwardly against them, the angle completely wrong but it felt so good he didn’t care.

His mind was full now, full of the scenario the way it should have been, long slow kisses that took your breath away, left you gasping and dizzied and desperate for more, experienced careful hands that touched you like you were something precious, not fragile just exceptional, someone you could touch back, feel the smooth glide of skin, bite the delicate skin of the neck, kiss back with everything that you felt, before you fucked yourself down, felt yourself shake with the force of it, with the knowledge of love and want. Dimly even as he gasped, felt himself contract on his fingers, a shudder of painful pleasure running through him, as his hand gripped his dick tightly, he knew that was exactly what this was. A fantasy, and a stupid destructive one at that, the sort a sixteen year old had when they were too young to know better, and too ignorant to be sensible. As he came, come spilling over his fingertips, his hole shuddering as though desperate for something bigger, even the orgasm felt dirtied, sullied somehow by his thoughts, the pleasure and relief over too fast, replaced by a gnawing sense of disgust and unhappiness as though reaching for the impossible, had just made the situation all the worse. He tucked the unused vibrator and the bottle of lube back away, lay there damp and tired, with moisture on his face that could have been sweat or tears.

When he roused himself to get up and shower, the same hopeless lethargy overcame him, made him want to curl up in his bed and go back to sleep. Twenty four hours he acknowledged to himself. It had taken them twenty four hours to get to this.


	3. Chapter Three

While he might have felt like he wanted to go to bed and pull the duvet over his head and block out the world for a bit, that wasn’t the sort of attitude that had ever got him anything in life, so after showering and dressing he went back to the kitchen table, tablet in hand and a cold beer beside him to get some things sorted. He’d planned on maybe meeting up with friends tonight, but wasn’t in the right mood at all. He needed to get things sorted in time for this meeting tomorrow. As he wrote reminders to himself, he gnawed at his lip anxiously, the thought swirling about his mind uneasily _what was he going to do tomorrow?_ Every fibre of him revolted at the idea of in effect working for another company’s advantage, but if he didn’t do as Martin told him to then Morgans would lose the deal anyway, and Jared would lose his job. Jeff was a good boss and a decent man, and he’d promoted Jared over the protests of many, but no company could afford the bad press of what was going to happen with this, and getting rid of Jared would solve so many problems for him at once.

 

With Jared fired, office rules about significant others working in the same building wouldn’t be contravened, the pressure put on him by senior management unhappy at the hiring of omegas in general would be appeased, he wouldn’t have to pay out the parenting time if Jared decided to change his mind about children, the time off that Jared took, meagre as it was in comparison to what he was officially entitled to was still a drain on resources. Everything would be easier for Jeff and for Morgans as a whole.

 

Sure he could drag it to a tribunal if he had to, but he’d never win and he’d render himself completely unemployable, if he wasn’t already that. This thing with Mirrorlake was multi-layered he knew that. It was to their advantage that either they got this deal, or that omegas were shown in general to be unreliable, subject to blackmail and liable to being suborned. It wasn’t like they’d get the rap for this, it was par for the course to use anything you could against another company that wasn’t straight up instantly provably illegal.

 

He indulged for a few minutes in a satisfyingly graphic thought of beating Martin up in the elevator, gagging him so alpha commands had no effect, (not he suspected that they’d have much effect coming from such a puny bastard anyway,) and delivering him like that to the rest of the team, then sighed and pushed it away. Daydreaming about that was like daydreaming about winning the lotto, satisfying until the moment you realised there was no Lamborghini in your driveway, and no beaten-up Martin in your future. This was where, he thought a little sadly, having a mate you liked would come in useful. If he’d been with Gen they’d have had a good laugh over the whole thing, she’d have told him to alpha up and go see Jeff, and that if he wanted she’d hold down Martin while he punched. Jensen he suspected, would just think all his Christmases had come at once.

 

He got up and rifled through the cupboards looking for something edible, and sighed at the emptiness of them and the fridge, internally weighing up his need for food, over his need to stay at home and sulk. The food won (it usually did, it was probably the reason for his height his mom used to say) and he went to find his coat to make it down to the shop before it closed for the night, thankful he hadn’t had more than the one beer.

 

While perusing the shelves and trying to decide between the chicken and the lamb, he became aware of an odd prickling sensation on his neck. He whipped round in case there was someone in the same aisle as him projecting hard onto the chicken fillets, but it was empty and as far as he could tell there was almost no-one else in the shop. It was the second time it’d happened today, the first had been when Martin had shook his hand and he’d _felt_ his ill intentions, felt his skin prickle in distaste, and it was unnerving him. He was barely an empath level eight (if he’d been an alpha or a beta, the army would’ve offered him an attractive package on coming out of highschool for his practical nullness,) he could only pick up when a high-level projected hard, or someone physically touched him. Getting an indiscernible feeling like this wasn’t something he did, and he wondered for a brief second if it might be something to do with Jensen. He’d heard in sex education class at school that even low-level empaths had an empathic connection that tied into their bond, let them know however dimly how their partner felt. Funny, he supposed, that in the time he’d known him, he’d never bothered to look at Jensen’s id-bracelet for his empath level.

 

Dropping the white wine sauce into his basket, he took out his phone and stared at it. Was it worth a call to Jensen just to check everything was okay? He dithered, as he browsed the vegetables, until he remembered that he didn’t even have Jensen’s number so that solved that, and he dropped it back into his pocket. The feeling didn’t go away though, it just got worse and he rubbed vigorously at his skin though he knew that logically that wouldn’t alleviate it. By the time he was paying at the checkout it was almost unbearable, and the niggling thought had returned. What if there was something wrong? If Jensen had been mugged, or hurt or even just slipped and knocked himself out, maybe this was the bond’s way of telling him he had to do something. It didn’t sound unlikely, there were countless bizarro tales of bonds letting people know there was something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what he could do to stop it.

 

After he’d loaded stuff into his car, he dug through the emails in his inbox on his cell looking for the time Danneel had sent him hers, and shot her a quick text. _Hey Danneel, do you have Jensen’s number? I need to ask him about something for tomorrow. -Best, Jared._

 

Only minutes later (God bless that woman for checking her phone as often as she did,) he got a text back. _Hi Jared, have attached Jensen’s contact details. Please forward me any relevant info from your discussions - Danneel._ She’d attached what looked like an office contact sheet with his phone number and address on it, and not without a heap of hesitation he phoned Jensen. Five minutes later, he was irritably pushing redial, and getting increasingly annoyed at the lack of pickup. A tiny thread of worry was creeping in now though, an aching nagging feeling that something must be wrong. Jensen treated his cell like an extension of his hand, there was no way he’d ignore a call for this long, not even if he was still pissed off from earlier. That combined with the sense of prickling unease resolved him. Jensen lived relatively close as neighbourhoods went, no more than twenty minutes drive, it couldn’t hurt just to drive past, to assuage this feeling. It was self-preservation after all, if something was seriously wrong and Jensen needed help, then it would harm Jared if it wasn’t attended to.

 

He tried to talk himself out of it the whole way there, and when he pulled up outside the house and it was dark and silent he almost drove away. Jensen was probably out somewhere with friends or partying, maybe even fucking some unattached beta, though he doubted it this early in the night. The thought did make him stop stone-still though. Maybe that’s what this was. Maybe Jensen was sleeping with somebody else, and the bond was kicking up a fuss, knowing the smell and the touch and taste were wrong. He’d driven this far though, it’d do no harm to check, though if Jensen wasn’t answering his phone the chances that he’d answer his door were slim.

 

Huddling his coat around him against the cold, he darted up the path and rang the doorbell. There were no answering footsteps, no lights flicking on, and he pressed it once more before turning away. He’d done his bit. So he was taken aback when light followed him back down the path. Turning, he saw Jensen, alive, quite clearly unharmed and wearing pjs framed in the light of the door, and a wave of sickening embarrassment poured over him. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d driven out here on the basis of nothing more than a psychic skin-complaint, and a sense of vague duty, and he had no doubt that if he’d been able to right now, Jensen would be spreading this round the office like wild fire. _So desperate he actually drove to me. Proves Omegas can’t keep it in their pants I guess._ Hunching his shoulders to appear smaller, he hoped desperately Jensen would just assume it was a really really tall kid pranking him and shut the door right now, before he saw Jared get into his car.

 

Unfortunately following his current streak of shitty luck Jensen assumed no such thing, and actually followed him out in bare feet catching up to him in seconds, a look of total confusion crossing his face when he saw Jared’s face. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, and turned away before Jared could answer. “Inside. We’re not doing this where the neighbours can see.” And right like that Jared couldn’t be fucked with this. He’d come out here to help Jensen, not to listen to his shit. Ignoring the other man, he strode back to his car, only to be forestalled by Jensen grabbing his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that man,” he said, “seriously come inside. I was just surprised that you hadn’t come to shout at me,” and Jared could hear the honesty in his voice where he hadn’t expected to find any.

 

He let himself be guided inside, and shivered reflexively as the warmth hit him. Jensen had taken him through to the kitchen, much like Jared had done to him, and pulling him out a chair. On the table was a heap of paper, a beer and a pair of glasses that were presumably Jensen’s, and Jared could feel a laugh bubbling up in his throat. Lifestyles of the not so different it seemed. Jensen definitely misinterpreted it though, snatching up the glasses defensively as though trying to protect them from mockery. An understandable reaction given that Alphas were meant to be physically perfect specimens, who were justifiably in a position of power over the rest of the race. Jared raised his hands. “Pax,” he said only half joking. If he wanted Jensen to listen to him without laughing, he was going to have to concede the glasses.

 

Jensen handed him a beer in tacit agreement, and sat waiting for Jared to spit out the reason he was here. It was surprisingly hard to explain, when he tried to put it into words ‘I felt a bit tingly’ sounded more like a come-on than a psychic warning. “Look this sounds crazy, but while I was shopping I just felt like something was wrong with you. It was definitely an empath thing, but I never get them ever,” he turned the face of his bracelet towards Jensen to emphasise what he was saying, knowing Jensen would get what he meant. Empath eights could barely read secondary elements to a conversation sometimes, let alone other people’s actual emotions. Yet another reason for Jensen to be pissed at this situation he guessed. Not just an Omega but a defective one. “So I tried ringing you, and you didn’t pick up. That’s when I just thought I’d drive by.”

 

The silence lengthened and Jared almost bolted at the awkwardness of it all. Waiting for any sort of response from Jensen, he took another gulp of beer to calm himself. Jensen finally responded, and he didn’t sound mocking at all. “It is kind of crazy I guess, but I’m not going to disbelieve you. I’m just puzzled.”

 

“Why?” asked Jared intrigued. “Were you actually in trouble?”

 

Jensen didn’t answer for a moment again. “Do you still have it?” he asked.

 

Jared checked himself mentally. “Sort of,” he replied, “it’s still there but it’s nothing like as bad, just like a really small itch.” He drained the rest of the beer and put the bottle on the table.

 

“That’s pretty weird,” Jensen said thoughtfully. “My mom phoned with some bad news a little bit earlier.” The look on his face dared Jared to attempt asking what the bad news had been, and Jared not unthankfully didn’t try it, just nodded in a vague attempt to look sympathetic. “But it must just be an accidental thing.” He extended his own wrist towards Jared, turning it so the bracelet faced him, and Jared saw the mirror of his own marked Eight.

 

_Well_ he caught himself thinking. _That certainly explained a lot about why they didn’t get on at all._ Generally speaking businesses opted for one of two extremes. As high an empath rating as they could get (usually no more than a five, similar to Martin, the occasional four,) or the lowest they could get- an eight like Jared, who couldn’t read others at all, but who was nearly impenetrable on an individual level to anyone below a four. Put two eights in a room though, and the utter lack of comprehension on both sides was a recipe for a disaster.

 

Eerily Jensen echoed his own thoughts. “I almost tested null,” he confessed. “So really it can’t have been me making you feel uneasy. Even with bond amplification I doubt I could project that strongly over that distance, even to my b-bonded.” He stumbled over the word bonded and Jared couldn’t blame him. It still hadn’t sunk in even to him, not properly, and it was becoming odder by the minute. He’d been told so many times that being so low rated was an almost insurmountable barrier to bonding, and he’d have to try and find someone high rated to balance him out. But if _Jensen_ was as low rated as he was, then how the hell had they managed to bond? Gen had been a level five, one level above the standard six, and hadn’t managed it. Now the two of them who realistically shouldn’t have been able to bond without intervention were tied together forever.

 

At some point another beer had appeared in front of him and he drank without thinking. Now that Jensen wasn’t leaping to be an asshole at every opportunity, this was surprisingly interesting to hear. He’d never really thought of an Alpha as being a low-rater before, though he’d assumed they’d existed. Like Jensen’s glasses it was a reminder that nothing was set in stone.

 

He was halfway down his second beer, when Jensen knocked his foot with his own. “Have you tried to bond with anyone before?” The question came out of left-field, and Jared was startled. There wasn’t really a good reply to that, so he decided to be honest, and hope that being so would encourage Jensen to do the same.

 

“I have. About ten years ago.”

 

“Didn’t take huh?” Jensen’s tone was for once neutral rather than mocking.

 

Jared nodded. “No fault on either side. She’s bonded now and happy though.” The good thing he was discovering slowly about being bonded to a level eight was that apparently they took you on face value. Gen would never have let him get away with pretending he was happy over that statement. Jensen just accepted it though, and stood to get a couple more beers.

 

“Want to move into the lounge?” Jensen asked, already up, holding the beers in one hand and absentmindedly hitching the side of his pj pants up with the other. Jared was surprised at the tiny flash of suppressed lust that shot through him at the sight of the bare skin, jerking off earlier should’ve helped with that but it seemed like it hadn't. He nodded, and followed Jensen in, taking the chance to look around him as he did. The house struck him as oddly neutral, like nothing had been touched since Jensen had arrived. It was well furnished and cared for, but utterly featureless, not a single photo on the walls just pleasant undistinguished pictures, and the occasional mirror. The sofas though were the Platonic Form of comfortable sofas, and he took the chance to sink back into it with a contented sigh that didn't go unnoticed.

 

Sitting up, he accepted the beer from Jensen, who'd colonised the squishy chair, swinging his feet up over the sides. "These are amazing sofas," he said with complete truthfulness.

 

Jensen smiled, the same oddly honest and bizarrely genuine smile he'd given to Andy earlier. "Most expensive thing I've ever bought," he said. "Well worth every penny though. I reckon a good sofa will save on medical bills over the years."

 

Jared hmmed in response, there wasn't much to do but agree (and take another swig of beer.) It hadn't escaped him that this was the longest time he'd ever spent in Jensen's company without either fucking or fighting him. It was actually quite restful though, and he felt disinclined to start either right now. This wasn't fixing anything, he knew that, he'd never been stupid. One quiet evening with Jensen wasn't enough to repair the bad blood between them, wasn't enough to make Jensen change his mind on all the things that affected Jared so badly. But it was a start, and a good start, even if he suspected that it was the beer that had mostly brought them to this point. 

 

"You doing anything this weekend?" he said, no intent in his mind but making conversation.

 

"No," said Jensen, and his voice was casual. "You?"

 

In between visiting his lawyer and filling the prescription he was bound to be given on Friday, Jared had no plans and said so. "I might check out the new Die Hard though," he said, more for the sake of talk than anything. 

 

Jensen said nothing for a bit, but the silence between them for once wasn't awkward, and Jared thanked whatever weird quirk of the bond had brought him here tonight. There might be something to be salvaged, and in his own environment Jensen didn't seem such a massive asshole as he did at work or at Jared's house. He was at the very least tolerable. Luckily three beers was nowhere near enough to make him admit out loud to thinking that, though draining the third one did bring to mind the shopping currently languishing in his car. "Shit," he said out loud and Jensen looked up. Jared tried to explain. "My shopping's in the car. I should head home and put it away."

 

"You've had three beers," Jensen said, "you can't drive home right now. Call a cab or wait it off."

 

Reasonable though it was, Jared felt aggrieved, at himself, at Jensen, at the bond, at the world. He should be at home figuring what to do tomorrow, not getting drunker in Jensen's company. He declined to say this though, opting for sulking in silence and being sure that Jensen wouldn't know what he was doing, especially since he was out in the kitchen getting more beer. "Stupid me," he murmured mostly to himself, no sense giving Jensen more ammunition. Unfortunately for him, Jensen's hearing was nowhere near as bad as his eyesight.

 

"Not that I'm disagreeing Padalecki, but what prompted that in particular?" 

 

"Icecream'll have melted," he said, and Jensen popped his head round the door. "Bring it in," he said reasonably. "Stick it in the freezer if it's not defrosted and you can take it home with you." Jared couldn't argue with plain sense, and he walked down to the car, the cold air clearing his head rapidly, the shopping still mostly intact when he opened the trunk to grab it. His head now clear, he understood as he had earlier, that if he stayed then sex was on the cards, whether it was drunken fumbling, or early morning hormones, and that this was the time to call the cab and get home. He couldn't quite bring himself to care though. Sex wasn't going to hurt anything and it just might help between them. Not to mention one part of his mind added unhelpfully, that it might even be good sex.

 

He stood long enough to get a little chilled, then almost reluctantly turned and headed in doors. Jensen met him at the door, gave him a hand with the bags and put the chilled and frozen stuff away, leaving the rest forlornly on the table. Jared rubbed his hands together and went back for the beer, the cool glass almost warm against his skin. They talked idly of different things, making their way through a couple more beers before Jared felt the need for the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror as he wiped his hands on a towel, noting the slightly flushed look of his face, the over-focusing of his eyes as he struggled to look at himself. When he left the bathroom he wasn't surprised to see Jensen standing there, arms crossed as he looked at Jared. "How drunk are you?" he asked.

 

"About as drunk as you," Jared replied with a shrug. Drunk enough to be tipsy, not drunk enough to think this was anything but a really bad idea that he was going to do anyway. Surprisingly Jensen just led the way back into the lounge, and Jared wondered if he'd chickened out. Jensen didn't seem like the type though. He went back to the beer, dimly knowing that his head probably wasn't going to thank him in the morning, but knowing that he was staying the night anyway. As an afterthought he set his alarm-clock obscenely early on his phone, since he might forget before the end of the night. The time caught his eye as he did so, and he could hardly believe it. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. He'd seen Jensen at his house at six pm. Something about it struck him as being terribly funny, and he could barely hold back a laugh.

 

Jensen by this point was looking a little less composed himself, cheeks redder than usual, hair mussed from fingers being drawn through it. He was on the subject of Martin from Mirrorlake now, and thankfully he agreed with Jared entirely. "Greasy little fucker," he started off with, never having been one to mince his words. "Can't believe with dealing with such an asshole. Honestly when he tried to pull that 'show me the stats' nonsense, I just about slammed his head into the table." 

 

Jared just nodded, muzzily aware that he probably shouldn't say just how much _he_ hated Martin from Mirrorlake but tempted to drop a hint. "Little bastard," he agreed, and there was the ring of truth in his words this time. Nothing else was quite as accurate a descriptor. "Besides," he added, "he cheats." He held his breath when the words slipped out. Now was the deciding time, if Jensen pressed further for explanation then Jared would tell him, if not then he'd leave it at that and figure it out in the morning. It was the ideal time really, eight beers down if you included the one from earlier, and Jensen was hardly likely to notice. Left up to the fate of whoever was watching out right now really.

 

No such luck as Jensen ignoring it though, the man was like a pitbull when it came to things like this, even when it was just gossip, and he leapt on it sharpish. "Cheating?" he said sharply. "Who?"

 

Through heavy-lidded eyes, Jared watched Jensen. "Me," he enunciated as clearly as he could. "Well us really, but it's me who'll be fired. Said if I didn't throw the deal, he'd make an official complaint about me not changing my registry status and taking the time off."

 

He'd anticipated that Jensen might explode, had even supposed that it would be at him rather than at any one else, but he hadn't reckoned on the sheer volume of anger that was unleashed in the next few seconds. From the sounds of it you'd have thought Martin had murdered Jensen's entire family and then stamped on his dog for good measure. 

Whatever it was though, the drink or the anger or some other unknown quality, had Jensen almost incandescent with rage. Jared could only listen semi-admiringly, as Jensen systematically took apart the other man from head to foot. He wasn't prepared for Jensen to come over and tug him up, and explain that if it was the last thing they ever did, they were going to get Martin, make him sorry for ever threatening Morgans, for ever threatening either of them in fact. This close, Jensen was frightening and a little exhilarating, and it felt good for once to have Jensen firmly and squarely on his side, making plans to see Jeff and Danneel in the morning, stopping for asides about how he was going to rip Martin's balls off if he got a chance. It wasn't something he'd ever felt with Jensen before, and that along with the beer in his system, overwhelmed his better judgement. 

 

This close to Jensen, up and near breathing his scent, feeling his warmth had worked it's magic, and he could barely think twice about remembering to mention it to his doctor the next day. Jensen too had stopped, was looking at him with eyes too dark, as though daring him to make the first move. Jared couldn't leave that hanging there, lunged with a growl to kiss Jensen, to bite his lip hard, to try and exert every ounce of the control that had been wrested from him in their first sexual encounters, from the fuck in the garage, to the joyless sex in the office, even the masturbation driven and fuelled by a Jensen he didn't believe was possible in real life. For a moment Jensen was slack beneath him, mouth half open in astonishment, the next he was fighting back, their kiss more like a battle in some unending war than anything else. 

 

Jared pushed Jensen back onto the sofa, enjoying the surprise that ran across the other man's face, tugging the long-sleeved sweater Jensen wore over his pj top off over his head, sliding it down his arms until it trapped his wrists in thick wool. He half expected an instinctive _no_ from Jensen, just enough to slow him down, stop this from happening and let Jensen wriggle free, but it didn't appear, though the effort of not saying it was causing Jensen to chew at lips already battered from their kiss. Jared grinned down at him. Sex he could do, especially sex outside of heat, and if Jensen only wanted to screw, only wanted to get blowjobs not give them out, he could do that, but not without doing it his way.

 

Standing, he looked around for lube and Jensen broke his self-imposed silence. "There's some in the bottom drawer in the kitchen," he said, breathing hard and fast. Jared stripped as he went, leaving a trail of clothes that he knew he'd regret in the morning, and returning with the lube in one hand. He knew what a sight he made, wasn't surprised that Jensen made a helpless noise as he crawled back on and undid Jensen's pants, shimmying them down, pausing for a moment to admire the sight Jensen made with nothing but his pants pushed down, and his sweater half off

 

With Jensen's hands out of action for the moment, though nothing would keep them out bar his co-operation,Jared flipped open the cap of lube and poured a generous amount onto his hands, warming it between his fingers before he started fucking himself on them. The angle was awkward, he had to work to get what he wanted, but the look on Jensen's face was more than worth the awkwardness as he slid another finger into himself, leaning forward to balance himself better, right up near Jensen's face. His own lube was beginning to kick in now, a little thicker, a little slicker than the artifical stuff, and really the saying was true, if you want a job right, do it yourself. 

 

He settled himself back onto his knees, spread wide above Jensen's lap, barely on the sofa but uncaring, as Jensen jerked upwards almost pitifully, dying to fuck him. If it could always be like this, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, he thought distantly. But this was the anomaly, this was them drunk and tired and angry, not how it would be. He knew Jensen, perhaps better than he should do considering his hate, knew the other man would never take this as standard, no matter how good it felt to have Jared slide down in easy increments, holding his dick for him, as he let gravity take it's natural course, until Jensen was seated right up deep inside him. The fullness seemed to leave him with no more room for thought, just an intense desire to wring everything from this that he could. 

 

His cock was hard and red against his stomach, and he risked unbalancing himself enough to curl a hand round it, jerk it as fast as he could, as he raised himself with tiny movements then fucked back down again, until Jensen didn't look like he could take any more, his sweatered hands tearing themselves apart to get out, until he could fasten firm fingers on Jared's hips and guide him into doing this faster, harder, brushing against Jared's own dick, face torn with too much emotion, half of which Jared couldn't read, didn't know if he wanted to even. The sounds between them were obscene now, the wet slick of their meeting loud in the silent room, and Jared thought he might be able to get off just to that, to riding Jensen and hearing the sounds they made together. Even the thought helped push him over the edge, one hand around his dick, Jensen buried right up close hitting something that made him want to scream with too much sensation, until he came over his hand, over Jensen's chest and ruined sweater, body emptying itself convulsively, dragging Jensen over with it until they were both speechless and done, collapsed against each other in a sweaty parody of real closeness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not happy with this chapter, concrit definitely welcomed.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four.

When Jared woke, it was to the insistent beeping of his cell on the floor beside him. He fumbled over and poked at the buttons until it shut up, and only then took note of his surroundings. He was curled up beside Jensen, on the floor beside the sofa. Apparently they'd been too drunk and too tired to make it to the bed, and as the events of last night came back in greater details, he groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. _Shit, shit, shit_ had he really been that stupid? All evidence pointed to yes, when he looked at the comatose form of Jensen beside him. 

 

He rolled over and picked himself up, feeling sticky, dirty and grubby. Now he remembered why when he had sex it was within the cool clean confines of his apartment with ready access to a shower. It was disgusting waking up like this, and he debated whether he should drive home like this, or have a quick shower. At the thought of putting his dirty clothes on a clean body though, he decided he'd rather get home as quickly as possible. He dressed as fast as possible, telling himself he wasn't going to think about last night until he got out of the house. When he was fully dressed, he picked up his cell and his shoes from where they'd been tossed near the door, Jesus what the fuck had he been thinking last night?

 

Jensen's face in sleep was almost peaceful, and Jared hesitated only for a moment before shaking him awake roughly. If he left him to sleep, then he'd probably sleep right through the day and miss the meeting. Jensen came awake with a sputtered cough, and peered at Jared sleepily, before slumping back with a muttered 'fuck' that perfectly echoed Jared's feelings. 

 

"Wake up man," he said, shaking Jensen once again for good measure. "We have definitely got to get moving."

 

He padded into the kitchen, and after downing a pint of water felt substantially better. His mouth still tasted like a zoo had had a party in it, but he didn't have a headache, and his tiredness was dissipating slowly. A rummage through the cupboards provided him with multi-vitamin tablets and he dissolved one and tossed it back. When he felt like he was approaching human once more, he picked up his jacket and headed out the door. Coffee could wait until he was at home, much like his shower. 

 

An hour later, he was showered, shaved, breakfasted and looking through the papers for the bid one last time. He didn't think he'd missed anything but you really never knew until the moment. He remembered once again the whole business with Martin, remembered drunkenly telling Jensen, and sunk his head into his hands. What had possessed him to do that? The beer, the company? He didn't know but it was another tick in the box of 'don't drink with people you don't trust.'

 

At least Jensen had reacted atypically, far more furious at Martin than at Jared, that was something in the plus book. It wasn't enough to make him trust Jensen in the least, but he did believe that Jensen hadn't been faking the outrage. Probably pissed the control-freak off, that someone else was making Jared's life a misery for once. He smiled a little at the thought as he folded the physical papers into his briefcase one more time and squared his shoulders. It was still only seven, and usually he wouldn't head into work until eight, but this morning it was important he felt to turn up early. After all if all this went wrong, then he wanted to be able to look at Jeff and tell him honestly that he'd tried his hardest, and that if he'd failed he was sorry.

 

As he drove there, he reviewed his options one last time. As he had expected, they seemed even thinner in the morning. Fucking up the only job that had treated him like an equal, screwing them over for his own sake, with no promise that this would be the only time, that Mirrorlake wouldn't hold his actions over his head forever. Or standing tall, and letting himself be decimated by Martin revealing his offense- one that he could be fired for on the spot if Jeff wanted, and which was open to prosecution if the state decided. He knew it wouldn't go as far as the courts, that was only for extreme circumstances of deception between illegal bondeds (incest bondings mainly) but the threat was there, enough that he would certainly be let go. It wasn't really a choice even so. Jared had worked so hard to get where he was, he wasn't going to stay through lies and deception.

 

When he got into the building, he was almost light-hearted. He'd made his decision, and he always felt better after that, as though a load had been lifted off. Instead of avoiding his reflection in the lift, he stared at himself as though through new eyes. He didn't look any different to two days ago, he thought. There was nothing on the outside to indicate any change, and he felt peculiarly light-hearted. He wasn't any different, not the real him. The loss he'd always feared from bonding with anyone other than Gen hadn't happened. He leaned his head back, for a moment almost happy. 

 

That disappeared the instant the lift opened though and he saw Jeff, early as always at the coffee machine. His secretary was supposed to get him coffee, but Jeff liked wandering into the offices, bumping into people on the way. When he saw Jared, he waved him over, and poured him another cup of coffee. Jared accepted the fortification gratefully, and held it clutched in cold hands, as he spoke. "I need to speak with you Mr Morgan." Jeff raised his eyebrows at the unusual formality but gestured Jared before him into his office.

 

Jared took a sip of coffee, then put the cup down on the desk and clenched his hands tightly together on his knees. "We have a problem," he said, and the words stuck in his throat. He was doing this. He was throwing away his life, not even trying to dig himself out. "Mirrorlake is blackmailing me into manipulating the figures in their favour. They expect to raise the percentage from five to seven today because of me."

 

There was silence for a long moment, and Jeff barely moved as he stared at Jared. "I see," he said. "When you say blackmailed, how?"

 

This was the hardest part, and Jared swallowed audibly. "I accidentally bonded the day before yesterday," he said dully. "It was to say the least unexpected, and both of us panicked. Martin from Mirrorlake spotted it, and also spotted that we hadn't Declared. He threatened me with exposure, and the company with unpleasant publicity. He also implied strongly that his company would use the circumstances to withdraw entirely from the bid." Put like that it seemed little enough, he supposed. There wasn't anybody whose life it would thoroughly fuck up beside Jared's. 

 

"You said we," Jeff observed, his expression still blank and neutral.

 

A voice interrupted him. "Yes. I'm Jared's bonded." Jensen had let himself into the room, and was standing there, fists clenched beside him. "Martin made it clear to Jared that both of us would go down for this."

 

"Why didn't you come to me about this Jared?" Jeff asked, and finally his frustration was evident, his disappointment like a whip-crack in the room. "I would have hoped that you would have had the brains to realise that it was an empty threat, an idle one and that we could sort this out smoothly."

 

Jared bowed his head, feeling his shoulders cave under the weight of an Alpha's full, strong disapproval. He straightened his back as much as he could, but couldn't raise his head, and for a moment he hated Jeff enough that he couldn't breathe. Even the best of them did this, he thought, and Jensen was nowhere near the best. He gulped in a breath of air and the pressure let up. "I'm sorry Jared," Jeff said, and he sounded genuinely sorry. "None of this is your fault."

 

Jared's chin shot up. "Yes it is," he said grimly. He wasn't letting this happen. If it wasn't his fault, it was because he couldn't control what happened to him, didn't matter enough to make his own decisions, was just the canvas that other people projected events onto. "I should have come to you. I should have had faith in what you said about treating me equally, and not firing me for things outside of my control. I'm sorry for that, I'm sorry for it all. Fire me if you want, make an example of me for the benefit of Mirrorlake, but don't try framing it as for my own good."

 

He realised both Jeff and Jensen were staring at him, and he looked between them with no let-up, and they both flicked their eyes away after a second, a small triumph but one that he was happy to have won. 

 

Jeff spoke again. "I'm not firing you Jared. I've told you this before and I've hoped that you'd believe me. We'll have to split you and Jensen up of course, shift you off the same team. But first before anything, Mirrorlake. I'll sort that out. Jensen I'm disappointed that you didn't take the appropriate steps to back up your bonded. I'd have expected you to do it for a co-worker, let alone your mate. Now the pair of you listen. You'll work out the rest of this meeting. Then, you will go, register and take your two weeks. I'll shift your workload to other shoulders and I expect you to get yourselves sorted. In two weeks I’ll re-evaluate your contracts, and decide what's to be done with you professionally. Now, go and find Danneel and let her know. I'm not having anyone of my team at that negotiating table without all the facts."

 

It was a dismissal, and they both filed out quietly. Jared glanced at Jensen, saw exactly what he'd been expecting- the angry, frustrated look on his face. He felt a little bit like he'd just walked out of a principal’s office, but again he felt lighter though his heart was still in his mouth though at the thought of facing the Mirrorlake team later in the day. Mindful of Jeff's words he left so he could go find Danneel and let her know.

 

She was in her office, feet propped up on a chair, though she swung them off as soon as she saw him. "All ready?" she asked, looking as excited as she sounded, and a great deal smarter than either Jensen or Jared, not a hair out of place, sleek and professional, as though like a genuine adult she hadn't spent the night before this bid fucking and drinking. 

 

"Uh Danneel," he said. "I've got something to tell you."

 

She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and listened with a slowly dawning expression of horror as he told her the full story. "Fuckers," she said at the end, and Jared was startled. He'd never heard her swear at work before. "The absolute fuckers. Why didn't you _tell_ us Jared?" He had no more of an answer for her than he had had for Jeff. She sighed. "Thanks for telling me," she said. "It'll work out I'm sure of it."

 

As they ranged around the table, and waited for the Mirrorlake deputation to come in, Jared realised he was shaking a little bit. He clenched his hands underneath the table, and hoped like hell no-one else could see what was happening, then felt Danneel gently elbow him. It reassured him like little else could have strangely, and he felt himself calm.

 

The door opened and the three person delegation came into the room, laptops and briefcases at the ready, seating themselves. "If we're all ready," their manager said with an arch of her eyebrows, and they were getting down to the business, when Jeff tapped on the door and asked for a word. They were gone for some time, and Jared was aware of Martin's gloating eyes fixed on his face, as they waited. He tried not to look at him, or at Jensen's set grim face.

 

When Jaime Margells came back into the room, she looked flustered and harried. “Pass me the papers,” she ordered. “We’re signing at the amount agreed yesterday.” With a subdued hand, she signed the documents, and picked up her briefcase. “We’re leaving,” she said shortly to her understandably surprised team, and gave Martin a look that could’ve cut ice before she swept out, looking furious. 

 

Jared could hardly believe it, and Jensen and Danneel looked similarly surprised around him. When it was clear that the deal was _done_ and done satisfactorily, Danneel let out a breath and stood. “I don’t know about you guys,” she said, “but I could do with a drink right now. Coffee will have to do though.” She disappeared through the door, and Jared and Jensen looked at each other, united for a second in bewilderment. 

 

“What the hell did Jeff say?” Jensen asked, and Jared shook his head.

 

“I have no idea,” he said, “but I’m thankful.” At that moment, before their mutual relief could become awkward, Jeff walked back in, followed by Danneel balancing some coffee cups. They sat down, and Jeff looked at each one of them. 

 

“I’m disappointed,” he said bluntly. “That shouldn’t have happened. Ms Margells was more than surprised that a member of her team should have attempted clumsy blackmail, and understandably furious. She agreed to no more haggling, as long as we didn’t make this public, and I assured her that you two,”- he looked at Jensen and Jared- “were in fact on your way to ratifying and Declaring, and more importantly that I had known that you hadn’t Declared. She was approving of your work ethic, if doubtful about your reasons.”

 

He let that sink in for a moment. Jeff had put himself on the line for them, made himself a party to their deception to protect them. Jeff shuffled the remaining papers on the table together and handed them to Danneel. “Jensen, Jared you are on your mandatory leave, starting from today. I’ll see you in two weeks and two days. Danneel, I’m shifting you to work with Adrienne and Mark for now, and you’ll take on full responsibility for the Poinset deal.” He drained his cup of coffee, and stood, before he addressed Jensen and Jared one last time. “Sort yourselves out,” he said. “I’d hoped you could put your ridiculous hostility to better use, don’t prove me wrong.”

 

When they were outside the building, Jensen turned to Jared. “You left your icecream in my freezer,” he said, and it was so unexpected that Jared was startled into a laugh. 

 

“You can have it,” he said drily. Then because discretion might be the better part of valor, but he’d never put much trust in stock phrases, he took the step. “Are we going to do this?” he asked bluntly. The mandatory leave was supposed to be spent together, wrapped up in one another, forming a closeness that couldn’t be broken. They were already fucking it up by leaving it this long, but Jared could as soon imagine cuddling up to Jensen and running his hands through his over-gelled hair, as he imagine hugging a rattlesnake. He could imagine fucking him just fine, but his imagination stopped straight after that.

 

Jensen eyed him. “No,” he said. “I have things to do.” The drop in Jared’s stomach was abrupt and unexpected, and another example of how his body was messing with his mind. There was nothing he wanted less than enforced proximity to Jensen for two weeks, but his body was expressing its displeasure at the idea in a way that was increasingly hard to ignore. Jensen seemed to feel something of the same, because his face twitched as though in doubt, and as though he was having teeth pulled he elaborated. “An old friend died,” he said. “I’m flying back home to attend the funeral.”

 

All of a sudden a lot of things dropped into place. “That’s what I felt last night isn’t it?” he said, and felt suddenly, unexpectedly furious. He had trusted Jensen, just a little, just enough to tell him what was happening at work. He’d reached out by turning up to make sure he was all right, and Jensen hadn’t bothered to share anything in return, had let Jared think he was going crazy by having weird psychic flashes of Jensen being hurt. Like that, the tiny rapport they’d built over having a common enemy was gone, and he was _done_ with it. Done with reaching out and making the first step. He felt his car keys in his pocket and smiled at Jensen, not caring how fake it was. “I’m sorry to hear about your friend,” he said. “Have as good a time as you can at home.” He turned and walked off, without bothering to wait for Jensen’s reply. He had an appointment to keep.

 

Waiting in Dr Watary’s out-room for her patients, he flicked through the out of date magazines with disinterest. He didn’t care that Omega actor Darren Watson had come out as O-sexual, and was in an O-on-O relationship with his female co-star Apple Morris. Fucking tabloids had nothing better to do than pry for the prurient details of other people’s lives. They looked happy, and that was what counted even if it’d probably break up in months like most other Hollywood relationships. Most of the other articles were re-hashed gossip columns and insipid interviews, and he was bored senseless by the time his name was finally called. 

 

Dr Watary was a Beta, small and compact, competent to the nth degree, and Jared thanked his lucky stars once again that she was his doctor. He explained everything that had happened, to her, and she looked forward as she tapped a pen against the table, and turned to her computer, pulling up his file. “You’re a level eight aren’t you?” she said thoughtfully. “It’s noted on your file that you’re almost completely null, so I imagine your mate must be higher than average.”

 

Jared leant forward. “That’s the thing,” he said eagerly. “He isn’t, he’s a level eight as well. Has been since birth. He told me he was told that he was unlikely to form a bond, just like me.” Surprise flickered over his doctor’s face, and he continued. “Something odd has been happening as well. Last night I felt his emotions. He was distressed and I sensed it from several miles away. And it’s not just him, I read sensation from two other people, who weren’t broadcasting that strongly as far as I can tell. For some reason it’s like I’m more sensitive.”

 

She frowned. “That’s almost impossible,” she said. “Psychic development never continues later than twenty two or twenty three. The parts of your brain that control it have completely finished developing by then. The only time I’ve seen drastic changes have been after cases of severe brain damage, when the brain starts rerouting its neural pathways.” She swivelled closer to him on her chair and held out her hand for him to take. “This is hardly accurate,” she said, “but as a rough test it’ll help.” 

 

He took her hand and concentrated. Nothing came through, she was as dead to his sensibilities as most things were. Eventually she dropped his hand, and frowned. “I’m hearing nothing,” she said honestly. “I know you’re a eight, but I read you as neutral. You’re pretty much a blank slate. Could it be proximity?”

 

“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully, “I guess it could be. Jensen’s been there on all the occasions it’s happened, bar the one time it was about him.”

 

“It’ll require research,” she said, “but I’ll look it up. Now for the rest of your check-up. Strip down and hop up on the table.” She handed him a paper gown, and rolled down more paper on the table. This was mandatory for his Declaration to be fully approved, both partners had to be in mental and physical health. He stripped and popped on the gown before sitting on the edge of the table, and letting her conduct a quick but thorough check up. While she was checking his reflexes, he remembered the other thing that he wanted to ask. 

 

“I’ve been having a problem,” he said bluntly, “and I don’t know if it’s normal or not. When I’m close to Jensen, I get aroused very easily, and I can’t control my uh fluid production.”

 

She looked at him, “you mean you over-lube,” she said with a frown. “Is this just in the bedroom, or is it when you don’t expect it?”

 

The embarrassment was catching up with him now, and he felt his face flushing. “When I don’t expect it. I don’t even like him, but when we brush up too close all I want to do is fuck.” His blush intensified as the accidental obscenity slipped out, but she waved it aside impatiently, and waited for him to go on. “I’m not in heat,” he added in case that was the problem, “and I’ve never had any trouble before... with other partners. But this thing with Jensen is really messed up. One accidental slip and we’re bonded, then suddenly I’m having all sorts of weird things going on with my body.”

 

She let him get down from the table and redress without carrying out the rest of the checks. “The good thing is,” she said, “you’re right this isn’t natural. The bad news is that I’m not sure quite what’s going on. None of what you’re describing is normal, although I’d expect you to have a deeper bond with your mate than you had before, that shouldn’t spill over into your other interactions. In fact often it diminishes ability to sense emotions. Your excess lubrication problem, and the suspiciously easy bonding are odd as well.”

 

Jared steeled himself for the most difficult question of them all, then came out with it bluntly. “I want to put in for a sterilisation request. I’m willing to pay, and I’ll do whatever I have to. I’ve already talked about it with my partner. We’ve agreed that he gets a free-pass, and I don’t have to have children.”

 

There was silence for a moment, and then she said softly. “That’s a very big step Jared. Are you that sure that you and your partner can’t be reconciled?” 

 

That gave him a pause for a moment, as he thought about Jensen. Good-looking, arrogant Jensen, with unexpected flashes of empathy, and a face that Jared could still quite happily punch, then he nodded. “He didn’t want this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t want it either, and both of us would be happier apart.”

 

“I wasn’t going to mention this,” the doctor said thoughtfully, “and I want you to be aware that I could lose my job over it if it got out so discretion is a must.” She paused, and Jared could barely wait for her to continue. When she finally did, her voice was even quieter. “There’s a little known procedure that’s gathering momentum in Europe. It can break a bond, or render forming one impossible. It’s illegal in most countries, but Switzerland allows it, and Germany currently has a bill passing that proposes legalising it. It was rejected in England last year, but they’re expected to force it through within the next couple of years.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Jared said, his mind spinning with the possibilities. “If I’d had it done, then I wouldn’t be in this position.”

 

“I’m sorry Jared, but if I’d told you about it, and it’d come out I’d have been jailed. Encouraging an unbonded Omega to sterilise himself or herself is an offence under the law that carries a maximum ten year sentence. Even telling this to you now that you’re bonded could have serious repercussions for us both, which is why discretion is essential. Besides the procedure has serious side-effects that are forever. Breaking a bond or the capacity to bond is traumatic in the extreme, and it renders you unable to ever form another one. It also renders you psychically dead, which might not affect you, but would most people, which in turn renders you almost incapable of carrying a child. Even low-rated people can sense the child next to their heart, and nurture them. This would prevent that. You can see why it’s not a first choice option.”

 

“Who can undertake it?” Jared asked. 

 

“In Switzerland you mean? You have to submit a signed declaration that you are physically, mentally and emotionally incompatible to your bonded partner to an extent that affects your well-being in every area of your life. Two doctors must sign it. That’s if both partners agree. In rare cases of documented and charged abuse, the court can order it performed if the Omega is willing, but the Alpha isn’t.” She sighed. “It’s a far out option Jared, and I’m only mentioning it so you can have the full picture. Perhaps you should discuss it with your partner.” He was grateful for her use of neutral terminology, if they stuck with this it was going to be weird hearing people call Jensen his Alpha, and he couldn’t imagine himself being anybody’s Omega. 

 

“Thank you,” he said, and meant every word. “I’ll discuss it with him, and come back for more information perhaps.” 

 

“In the meantime,” she said, scrabbling in her desk for a new notepad. “I suggest you see an expert about your bond. Someone who can properly diagnose how it happened, and if it’s progressing as normal. If you want my advice, you’ll treat this like a normal bond, until you’ve decided what you want to do.” She wrote down a couple of names for him, and handed over the piece of paper. “Best of luck,” she said and her eyes were kind. He appreciated that she didn’t try any pointless platitudes about how things always got better.

 

He got back to his house, which seemed oddly empty for the first time ever, and made an appointment to see his lawyer sometime next week, though he put off calling the bond-therapist until he knew when Jensen could make it as well. He ate a solitary dinner, and hesitated over pouring himself a beer. It was a Friday night, he should be out getting slaughtered with friends, not alone worrying over his life. He came to a decision and picked up the phone, calling Bryan. Bryan ever ebullient, answered the phone with a loud shout of happiness. “Jared,” he shouted as though he was at the over end of a football pitch. “Come out with us you fucking stick in the mud. We haven’t seen your face in weeks.”

 

Jared felt himself smile, and found himself agreeing to catch up in a bar. Two hours later, he was well on his way to getting drunk. “I drank too much last night,” he found himself confiding in Bryan who laughed uproariously. 

 

“Join the club,” he said, slinging an arm around Jared’s shoulders. “It’s good to see you again Jared man, I mean that. What have you been up to?” 

 

Whether it was the shots of tequila he’d been knocking back since he arrived, or not Jared didn’t know, but he told them the truth. “Nothing much,” he said with a grin. “Got bonded.”

 

It was worth saying it out like that, to see the stunned look on Bryan’s face, and he started laughing helplessly. “Jesus man,” Bryan said, when he was able to speak again. “Seriously?” Jared nodded. “Congratulations,” Bryan said, shaking his head. “Seriously congratulations, but this is a bit out of the blue. When it’d happen?”

 

“Two days ago,” Jared said and tossed back a shot of what he thought was sambuca. 

 

Bryan’s silence was a good deal less cheerful now. “Dude, shouldn’t you guys still be holed up somewhere and fucking?” Jared almost choked at that, but yeah it was a stereotype for a reason “I didn’t even know you’d found an alphafriend.”

 

“I didn’t,” Jared replied. “It was an accident.” He looked at the bar, rather than see the confusion and the beginning traces of pity in Bryan’s eyes. He did feel the warm clap on his back though, and hear Bryan call out to the bar at large.

 

“Jared’s gone and got fucking bonded. Drinks are on him.” 

 

He didn’t know what time it was, when he first felt it, or how many drinks he’d had, but the same tingling feeling as the night before began to flood through him, and declining another drink he stumbled outside into the cold night to sober up a little bit. Even with his head clearing a little, the feeling remained, a tugging sensation at his heart as though he should be somewhere else. _Fucking Jensen_ , he thought, too tired to articulate anything else. _Fuck you, leave me alone._ He sat on the freezing floor and flipped open his phone, looked at the number from last night, then closed it and slipped it back into his pocket. The unease remained, a constant reminder of Jensen, and he eventually cracked and called.

 

It took three tries to hit the correct number and he called Jess and Karl before he connected to Jensen. When it picked up after three rings, he found himself unsure what to say, and hit cancel. Fucking stupid idea in the first place. Only Jensen rang back. He let it buzz for a while before he answered, heard Jensen’s familiar sharp voice on the other end.

 

“Are you drunk Jared?” he asked, no hello, no how are you.

 

“A little,” he slurred in reply. “I can feel you, you know. Are you upset again?” Even drunk, he could’ve kicked himself for saying that. Jensen had flown back home because a friend had died. Of course he was upset.

 

Jensen’s voice was uncharacteristically subdued though. “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll try and damp it down.” The cell clicked, and the dial tone began to buzz in his ear, leaving Jared a great deal soberer and feeling like a dick that all he could focus on, was that this was the first time Jensen had ever apologised.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had been intended to be the last chapter but unfortunately it was impossible to wrap up the story in such a small amount of space, so there is one more chapter left.

He didn't remember how he got home, just remembered being sick into the toilet, and then climbing drunkenly into the shower before clambering into bed. When he woke up the next morning it was with a splitting head, and he groaned and shoved the pillow back over his head, willing the pounding in his skull to subside. When the ache had dulled to manageable proportions, he groped his hand out of bed for his phone, and did the morning-shame check of his sent box. Nothing thank God. In his drafts though, there were four attempts at a message to Jensen saying everything from 'fuck you' to 'God I'm sorry.' He grimaced and deleted them all, dropping his phone down the side.

 

It took another half hour before he found the wherewithal to actually get up, and even that was just to grab a diet coke from the fridge (and studiously ignore the beer. Hair of the dog was not a good idea while his stomach still felt so delicate.) When the caffeine and aspirin had worked their minor magic, he managed to roll out of bed properly, and after a shower actually felt pretty human. While he was contemplating the effort of a coffee, and boggling at the fact that it was only just nine am his phone flashed and he went for it. 

 

Bryan's number flashed up on the display, and Jared flicked it open feeling his stomach drop. This was the worst part of a night out where you got really trashed- not remembering what the hell you might have done. Bryan had seen him at his worst it was true, but Jared didn't want to give him more ammunition than he had to. "Hey," he said preemptively, "what did I do last night that was so bad you couldn't wait 'til after twelve to mock me?"

 

Bryan laughed down the phone at him. "You make me sound so cruel. As it happens you didn't do anything terrible last night. I mean you got weepy towards the end, and started moaning about how you should be fucking some dude called Jensen, then you changed your mind and decided to strangle him instead. But compared to that time in Tijuana you were like a monk. I didn't have to wrestle you off the coke or anything. Actually I was letting you know that I have your wallet in my possession for unknown reasons. Dunno how the hell you got home last night without any money, but if it was giving blowjobs to cab drivers that's pretty fucked up."

 

Jared held the phone away from his head and stared at it for a moment before replying. "Don't tar us all with your brush Bryan," he said with an appropriate quantity of incredulity.

 

"Yeah man, anyway I turned my head and you were gone, then you phoned me and told me that you were home. Lemme know if you want me to drop your wallet off or if you want to come get it. We're doing a little gathering tonight."

 

"Jesus," Jared said without any heat. "You're a machine dude, don't you ever get a hangover?"

 

"Never," Bryan said cheerfully. "And if you worked from seven to ten correcting fucked up legal briefs you'd want to get smashed at the weekends as well. You coming tonight then?"

 

Jared rubbed a hand across his eyes, and contemplated going back to bed. "Sure man," he said.

 

"Great stuff. Bring beer, turn up anytime," he said, and rang off noisily. Jared tossed the phone back down on the side, and decided that coffee really was the best decision. As he waited though, footsteps padded into the kitchen behind him, and pure fear ran through him. He hardly dared turn around. What the fuck had he done? Had he got drunk enough to pick somebody up? Cheated on Jensen before they'd even been together a week? 

 

It took strength to turn around, and when he saw who it was, he blinked in utter shock. "Gen?" he said incredulously, and she smiled at him.

 

"Hope I didn't give you a shock, didn't expect you to be up already after last night to be honest." She stepped forward, and with the brisk easiness of their interaction that had always been there, even in the broken aftermath of them splitting thanks to their complete inability to bond, she got the cups down.

 

Jared noted she set out three. "Three?" he asked stupidly, his mind finding it difficult enough to comprehend that he might have cheated on Jensen with his ex alpha-friend, let alone a third person.

 

Gen's eyes softened, and he remembered that she was a five, and probably picking up on a little of what he was broadcasting. "You, me and Tasha," she said, jerking her head to the doorway where a fairly tall girl with brown hair was lurking as though she wasn't quite sure whether she should come in or not. Hearing her name, she slipped in awkwardly and raised her hand in greeting. Jared had actually met her quite a few times- the perils of your social circle overlapping with that of your ex and her bonded.

 

"Hey," she said quietly. "I like the house."

 

"Thanks," Jared said a little wildly, looking around for some sort of explanation as to what the hell was going on. It was Tasha who enlightened him, as Gen was digging in the fridge for some milk.

 

"You were wasted last night when we bumped into you, and you just wanted to go home. You didn't have your wallet on you though, and you were kind of out of it, so me and Gen brought you back. It was like three am by then though, so we kind of just borrowed your spare bed." She smiled at him, and he sort of understood what had got Gen so completely smitten by her that they'd bonded after a few months.

 

"That's cool," he said. "Thanks I guess," and smiled back. Gen pressed a cup of coffee into his hands, and then passed one to Tasha before securing her own. 

 

"I'm afraid your dreams of a sexy socially forbidden threesome are entirely unfounded," she said drily. "If that's what you're worried about."

 

It felt kind of weird to admit that he had been a little bit worried about that. Gen wasn't the sort of person who did things like that, and he couldn't imagine that she and Tasha looked anywhere outside of their bonding. "Course not," he said though, and sank onto a chair, his headache already beginning to come back a bit. Gen and Tasha sat down as well, both of them looking a little the worse for wear themselves.

 

"What are you two up to today?" he asked in an attempt to distract himself.

 

"Nothing much," Gen said. "Heading back home to get changed, lazy day, then drinks at Bryan's this evening."

 

Jared grinned. "Same," he said. "Looks like he's getting the old crew back together. You want to stay or something, catch up before the party?"

 

"God no," said Gen, "I need a shower," and it was that, that broke the icy weird little distance between the three of them, and made it into something more manageable and human. Even after they'd split, he'd counted Gen a friend, as he knew she'd thought of him, but there had still been that gulf between them- the gulf of somebody who'd successfully bonded, and someone who hadn't. Now Jared was bonded, and even if he didn't like Jensen, it broke the tiny tension between him and Tasha. He'd been Gen's first love- he knew that because she'd been his. But that was over and done with now, and having his friend back properly without feeling even a little bit of hopeless jealousy was terrific.

 

They talked a little more, before Tasha excused herself to take a shower, and Jared went to find her some towels. While she was showering, he and Gen moved into the front room and sat down for a bit, comfortable silence falling between them. This hadn’t changed between them at least. They only talked of inconsequential things, until Jared touched on her and Tasha’s bonding. He hadn’t gone- he was a reasonable sort of person, but it had been eight months after they’d split and the wounds had still been too deep and raw to reconcile. He kind of regretted that now seeing how happy they were together. Still he’d been twenty two and felt like his world was falling apart when it became evident that no matter how hard they tried it just wasn’t happening. Now he was twenty nine and although he still thought wistfully, occasionally of what he could have had, a little bit of perspective had been brought to bear and he could even acknowledge that his family might’ve been right- trying to bond when you were twenty one and just out of university wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. 

 

Gen’s eyes were bright though, and her smile ecstatic, and that was after six years of her and Tasha being bonded, and the affection in her voice was deep and solid when she mentioned her bonded- which was providing Jared with a whole new set of jealousy issues when he compared that to the jagged edges of him and Jensen. 

 

Still he was surprised when she sat down her cup and curled her legs up underneath her to peer at him. “I hear you’re bonded now,” she said and it wasn’t a question. Bryan must’ve told her last night, or maybe she could sense it off him. Jared had sent his notification off to the appropriate government department, and Jensen had apparently done so as well, but their new ID bracelets hadn’t arrived yet. 

 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was sudden, but you know how these things go. One moment it’s there between you, the next you’re bonded.” He’d been trying to keep it light-hearted, make it sound consensual and fun, like a workplace romance that’d culminated in sex where they’d bonded on the first try like some incredibly cheesy rom-com, but he could hear the bitterness in his own voice, and so could Gen judging by the way she was biting her lip.

 

“You don’t sound happy,” she said softly. 

 

He bit back the irrational urge to shout at the world just how unhappy he was. This wasn’t Gen’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, not even Jensen. It was on his shoulders. “I’m not,” he admitted, “but you know somethings you just have to live with I guess.” He looked at Gen, at her worried face and felt sudden compunction for unloading this onto her. “Sorry,” he said with a half smile. “Things will work out. They always do somehow.”

 

She looked like she was about to argue, but Tasha came into the room at that moment, and the worry lines smoothed away as though by magic at the sight of her partner. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said to Jared, half promise, half threat.

 

When they were gone, Jared found the urge to go back to bed had gone with them, but that without the distraction of their presence a nagging itching sensation was spreading through his body, like an ache without a cause. It was bad enough that he couldn’t concentrate on anything productive at all, and pervasive enough that once it had pushed itself to the forefront of his attention it wouldn’t leave. Nothing helped, and for once every search word he pushed into the internet agreed on the reason, a minor miracle in and of itself once he’d discarded the possibility that he was suffering from an invisible rash or mysterious neuropathic pain. Dissatisfaction, itching, emptiness they were all associated with failing to spend skin-time with your newly bonded, and he came across more articles than he’d ever have thought existed concerning the optimal ways to spend your time, which pretty much boiled down to fucking, fucking and more fucking. With occasional breaks to hold hands and eat. Or if he was looking at the romanticised versions, fucking + time spent watching horrible movies in bed.

 

All that it made him think was that hanging around the house and catching up on TV he’d missed was sounding remarkably appealing, but he was nearly out of groceries and if he was going to Bryan’s he’d need more beer. So with a sigh he got himself out of the house, thankful that he usually left his cards at home on a night out, and for once appreciating the fact that he generally didn’t get IDed for alcohol purchase. Wandering around the supermarket while trying not to think about how he wanted to pull off his shirt and scratch at a non-existent rash, he found his thoughts idly drifting towards Jensen instead, wondering if he was feeling the same thing and tried to drag them away. That was helpful to precisely no-one. Jensen was back home in Texas dealing with the death of a friend, not here.

 

In a coincidence that was seeming less and likely when his phone rang in his pocket, it was Jensen. Jared stared at it for a second before reluctantly answering. Hiding was for cowards. “Hey,” he said, and determined to retain the moral high ground continued on, “I’m sorry for being a douche last night. I hope you’re okay.” Even saying the words was difficult, but the sound of Jensen’s voice was like cool water on his body, soothing away the ache- not completely but at least a little. If he’d known that was what it took to relieve the sensation, he’d have done it earlier.

 

Jensen’s voice on the other end sounded embarrassed. “It’s cool,” he said awkwardly. “You were out of it, I could tell. Did you get home okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Jared said, holding the cell between his neck and his shoulder as he reached for the rice bags, wondering what had prompted this almost unbearably civil exchange. The next moment revealed all.

 

“I’m getting back home on Tuesday,” Jensen said, and Jared wondered if he was imagining the nervousness behind bravado, or if his weirdly heightened abilities were picking up on it somehow. “I thought we should probably meet and hang out for a bit. A friend of mine recommended a bond therapist who can fit us in for an emergency appointment at the end of the week, and I had a phone conversation with her earlier. She said it’s really important that we cohabit for at least part of the time.” He paused and when Jared didn’t say anything, he continued defensively. “If you don’t believe me you can phone her yourself. Or look her up on the internet or something,” he reeled off her name and location.

 

“Wow,” said Jared, caught a little off guard by both the proposal and Jensen’s defensiveness. “Uh yeah that sounds do-able I guess. Do you want a lift from the airport or something?” 

 

“Might be a good idea,” Jensen said. “I can come straight to your place if you want.” He sounded almost painfully eager, and Jared was forced to consider the possibility that Jensen was feeling exactly the same burning sensation that he was and had looked up the cause as well. 

 

“Sure,” he said slowly. “What time’s your flight in?” He memorised the details, and rang off, and looked at his cell in pure puzzlement. The relief provided by Jensen’s voice was already wearing off, and the ache returning- deeper and more persistent than ever, like the brief respite had aggravated it into asserting its presence more fully.

 

Several hours later at Bryan’s house, twisting off a beer-top he was still completely confused as to what the fuck was going on. Luckily (or not) his friends were more than happy to share their own experiences with bonding and the like. Most of them were betas, and omegas that he’d met at university and who’d got jobs in the same city. Most of the bonded ones had brought their alphas along, and sat close by them. None of them seemed unhappy as far as he could tell, but he wasn’t exactly an expert, and besides his group of friends were pretty self selecting. Omegas going to university still wasn’t something commonplace, and they’d all stuck together from self-defence. None of them had opted for a traditional bonding type which was hardly surprising. Why spend so much money and fight so hard to get an education just to throw it aside in favour of the first alpha to look twice at you? 

 

Then there were alphas like Bryan who had no interest in bonding at all, and were meticulous in avoiding it at any costs. Bryan and Gen between them had been the first alphas that Jared had ever got to know properly, and he still cringed a bit to remember how much he’d avoided them in those first terrifying weeks in a strange place, locked in at nights for his own protection, obliged to go for monthly check ups as part of his conditional acceptance, and really not in the mood to meet new people. It’d been hard to imagine back then that really yeah there were alphas who weren’t total dicks, and who were actually on their side. It was hard for anyone to dislike Bryan for long though, his cheerful obliviousness to most things providing a perfect surface to bounce off. Bryan had purposefully sought them out- him and a few other alphas like Gen and betas like Michelle and Tom, dragged them into the social life that college gave, and offered them unspoken back-up. Jared didn’t think he’d have stuck it out without them.

 

Right now though as they all peered at him in interest and wanted to know details of his mystery bonded he could’ve wished them all to the devil. They already knew, courtesy of Bryan that his bonded was a man called Jensen, but that wasn’t enough to sate their curiosity and he didn’t feel up to explaining the whole sordid story. He batted away the questions with light hearted answers for as long as he could, but at the third expression of surprise that he didn’t even have a picture of Jensen on his phone or something, the combined frustrations of the day got to him, and he set down the beer on the side. 

 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said as firmly as he could manage. “Seriously I don’t.” He stood awkwardly, and looked around. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said and walked out of the room, unable to take the crushing weight of their sympathy on him, cursing the additional sensitivity being bonded had given to him. Wasn’t it supposed to _decrease_ when you bonded, not ramp up? Behind him soft footsteps sounded, and when he turned round Gen was there.

 

“Hey,” she said softly, and held her hands up like she was soothing an animal. “It’s okay.” The gesture did nothing to calm him down, but she stepped closer. “I just wanted to tell you something. I know us breaking up was difficult for you, and me meeting Tasha so fast, then being bonded in a year was tough to take as well, so I didn’t tell you this at the time, and afterwards it wasn’t something I was proud of or wanted to think of. But I think it might help you to know.”

 

“Know what?” he said, body still hunched up, the uncomfortable tension that had been ratcheting up all day now at it’s worst level.

 

“After me and Tasha bonded,” she said as she perched on a chair. “I realised it was way too fast. I couldn’t adjust to it at _all_. And all the things I thought I had a handle on, that I was _better_ than, just rushed up on me. It was a really shitty time for me and Tasha both. She hugged someone and I went apeshit on them both. Couldn’t handle the jealousy. And I’d never been a jealous person before, you know that. And suddenly I was this massive alpha stereotype. I didn’t even like Tasha going to class because it took her away from me, though that at least I had a handle on. I didn’t like her family so they didn’t get invited around much.”

 

Jared looked at her disbelievingly. “You’re not like that,” he said slowly. “You were never like that with me.”

 

“We weren’t bonded,” she replied simply. “I mean I got a grip on it fast, Tasha didn’t let me get away with that sort of shit, but what I’m trying to say is that bonding can really fuck you up. Some people settle in right away, other people are messed up by it. Hormones get out of whack, your psi rating goes haywire, you suddenly start imagining things that haven’t even happened just to have something to feel angry about.” She looked at her hands. “I’m not excusing anything that I did, or that Jensen might be doing right now,” she said, and looked straight up at him. “You don’t need to put up with a jerk or even make allowances for what they do. But maybe try and keep in mind that some of it really might not be him. I mean I got better. I remembered that what I was becoming _wasn’t_ me and never had been, that it was my choice not to let it get the better of me.”

 

“Why are you telling me this now?” he asked. “Is it that obvious that there’s a problem?”

 

“You mean _apart_ from you saying you weren't happy earlier? You’ve been single for seven years, if you ignore hookups,” she replied dryly. “Then suddenly you turn up bonded to an alpha and you don’t even want to talk about it. There’s only a few explanations for that. I just wanted you to know that you can’t know the full story behind everyone’s bonding. I know it looks like everyone else was always fine, but it isn’t true.”

 

Jared let that sink in, then looked at her. “He _is_ a jerk,” he admitted. “But I am as well, and it’s my fault that this happened. I can’t blame him for how fucked up the whole situation is and that just makes me angrier. I just want to be free of it.”

 

Gen let her hand touch his arm in comfort, the lightest touch and only for a second, and still Jared felt something ugly creep up inside him, like Jensen could feel that. “You’re bonded,” she said softly. “You can’t be free of it. You have to work with what you’ve got like me and Tasha did. She probably regretted bonding me for the first two months though I haven’t asked her. That’s long behind us though and everything did work out in the end. I have faith it will for you as well.”

 

Jared wished he could share that faith, but it did feel good to have someone who believed this could work out on his side. “Thanks,” he said, “for telling me about that. I think it helped.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. “Now c’mon back to the party. You’ve got friends, now’s a good time to remember that.” Later, loose from a little bit too much beer and good company, Jared slept easier than he had in the last week with the memory of that conversation to bolster him a little.

 

When he turned up at the airport though it wasn’t quite enough to shield him from the awkwardness of greeting Jensen amongst the rest of the crowd. They hovered a little, unsure whether they should even attempt the customary kiss. Around them, the rest of the crowd seemed engaged in displaying ridiculous amounts of emotion, and when Jared went in for the kiss on the cheek, Jensen went in for the hug and they collided painfully, clearly mutually deciding that even with the best of intentions in the world they should just let it be. Jensen was tired looking, worn around the edges, and Jared wondered if it was the funeral that had grabbed him like that or being away from their bond. His own face in the rear mirror was pretty haggard looking- the last couple of days had been gradually more and more difficult for him as well. What had started as an almost ignorable itch on the Sunday, had been a gnawing ache on the Monday, and almost a physical pain on the Tuesday, which yeah he was pretty sure wasn’t normal by any standards, but also wasn’t something he could tackle until Jensen was back.

 

Now with Jensen beside him, it was reducing, still there, still present in a way that he suspected wasn’t going away until they were naked together. He’d stopped being surprised that he reacted so easily and physically to thoughts like that, but the strength of the want that flooded through him at the throw away thought still had the power to stagger him. Not to mention the weirdness of _Jensen_ looking like he was picking up on it as well, since the instant the thought had flickered across Jared’s mind, Jensen had turned unerringly to face him, eyes over bright, face flushed, and now he wasn’t even sure if he’d thought it first or Jensen had. If his fear of getting stopped by the cops for indecent exposure hadn’t been so strong, he’d almost have been tempted to jump Jensen, if only to get the last of that edge out of his system.

 

It looked like Jensen had had the same thought pattern, and when Jared stopped at the red lights, he felt Jensen’s hand move roughly over his pants and bit back a curse that threatened to fall. “We can’t do that here,” he said, though what he actually wanted to do was strip off and let Jensen go to town. “We need to get home a-and talk,” the last was barely comprehensible he was sure, because Jensen was unzipping him, leaning against his shoulder and working his hand into Jared’s pants, and this was a _really bad idea_. Jensen didn’t seem to give a shit about that though, his hand working Jared fast and raw, and this was an even worse idea when Jared had to drive. If he lived to be a thousand, he didn’t think he’d be able to explain how he got home without crashing the car, or coming, given that he was already on a hair-trigger from deprivation and too many dirty dreams. 

 

When they were through the door though, Jensen was struggling out of his shirt, and Jared wasn’t far behind him, stumbling over himself in his haste. Sex had proven itself not to be a problem between them at least, and if it put off yet another awkward talk where they managed to resolve nothing then Jared was all for it. He was possibly more genuinely surprised at Jensen ducking his head to give a pretty reasonable blowjob all things taken into account than he was at most of the things that had happened this week. He hadn’t thought this would be something Jensen would do. Not to an omega man at least. Betas sure, no shame there, but going down on an Omega male or female wasn’t generally done.

 

The adage about looking a gift Jensen in the mouth seemed to hold true though and he opted for enjoying the moment as it was happening, Jensen’s hot mouth wrapped around his dick felt like more than he could stand, and he couldn’t even really bring himself to care that once again they hadn’t made it to the bed. He was trying not to thrust up with abandon into Jensen’s mouth, trying in fact not to come on the spot, but really that was a lost cause, and he couldn’t even be ashamed of how little time it took for him to come. Jensen didn’t seem bothered, just wiped his mouth and kissed him hard, all tongue and teeth, and Jared couldn’t wait to get fucked, even as the hazy thought crossed his mind that it really was a day of firsts. That was the first time they’d ever kissed. He rolled onto his stomach, spread his legs with little shame, let Jensen go to town on him, fingers sliding in easily, while Jared sunk his teeth into his arm to keep himself from moaning too loudly. 

 

Jensen was apparently on exactly the same brink as Jared because he came nearly as fast, rocking in increasing desperation, fingers digging into Jared’s hips, leaving him flooded with warmth and still so empty, and it felt like heat. It couldn’t be, he knew that logically but the creeping horror of it cut through the haze of orgasm, and he squirmed out from under Jensen, need satisfied for a brief moment, body whole again even if all he wanted to do was climb right back on again, take Jensen into himself until he’d reached completion all over again. On this occasion they hadn’t made it past the hallway, and he grimaced as he looked at the mess that they’d made between them. Jensen looked like he just wanted to fall asleep where he was lying, but eventually crawled upright.

 

Jared should have felt satisfied, felt like something had been mended, since he’d been feeling so shit from lack of sex and closeness. Instead aggravation was crawling up his limbs, an undying restlessness and irritation that he didn’t even know how to categorise except that he couldn’t control it. It felt like the worst bits of being on heat- that terrible edge of desperation combined with how he’d been mostly feeling for the past week. It just got worse the further he got from Jensen, and he threw Jensen a couple of towels and pointed him in the direction of the guest shower, and flicked through his cell with trembling fingers. This wasn’t natural, not in the least- he wasn’t an expert but he knew that at least. He was dialing the emergency number of the bond therapist that Dr Watary had recommended, and listening to the dilatory call waiting beeps when Jensen tackled him from behind.

 

Taken off guard, Jared fought back instinctively, knocked Jensen away from him, barely able to keep his balance against the sustained attack. “What the fuck are you doing?” he gasped, phone lying forgotten beside him, dormant instinctual fear flooding through him at the sight of Jensen’s lips drawn back from his teeth in anger.

 

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Jensen hissed. “I can stink them all over your bedding you bastard,” and though Jared didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, he knew he had to calm Jensen down- there wasn’t much of a trace of the usual hot-headed and yet fundamentally sensible person he generally was in evidence. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jared said, driving a knee into Jensen’s stomach, sending him wheezing to the floor, and sinking down on top of him, using his height and weight advantage to stop the other man from trying another swing. “Be reasonable,” he said, trying to get through to him.

 

“Some other alpha,” Jensen practically growled, “you fucking somebody else in the _three_ days that I was gone,” and God Jared knew he should’ve got round to changing that bedding.

 

He leaned down harder on Jensen, hoping the other man didn’t try forcing the issue with an alpha command voice, “I didn’t fuck Gen,” he said bleakly, “she’s just a friend, I promise.” He knew how weak it sounded, but it was all he could say. Gen’s alpha scent would’ve drowned out Tasha’s omega scent in the same room.

 

Jensen bucked underneath him, and threw him off on the second try, scrambling upright and circling uneasily around him, clearly torn between believing him or remaining angry, and now Jared felt the same unreasonable swell of vicious terrible anger well up in him like it’d never left from the first time he’d felt it about Jensen, couldn’t combat it. He could feel himself start shake, this was so _stupid,_ some ridiculous misunderstanding tearing its way through any moment of understanding that they managed to build, and he couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life building up some tiny shreds of compatibility only to lose them at any second. 

 

It felt like his nails were tearing his hands apart, raw pain splitting through them, but when he looked down he wasn’t even digging his nails in, yet the pain still rolled its way onwards through him, and it hurt more than anything else he’d ever felt. Opposite, Jensen fell to his knees on the floor and Jared watched unbelievingly as his back began to arch, and he began to shake and convulse. When he got to the phone, he realised the receptionist on the other end was talking, and he gasped out basic details and she patched him straight through to the office where the therapist instructed him to call an ambulance and not to touch Jensen until it arrived. 

 

Waiting for the ambulance to arrive was the longest time of Jared’s life- or at least the moments of it that he could remember in between the flashes of pain and confusion he was feeling himself were. Having someone sedate him was actually a blessed relief from it all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just realised that throughout the course of this story, Jensen and Jared haven’t actually had sex on a bed once. This must be an achievement of sorts!


	6. Chapter Six

He’s not aware of anything for a long time, and when he finally fights his way back up to consciousness, it’s to an empty hospital room. His mind was fuzzy and woozy as hell from whatever they’d jammed into his arm, but he’s still pretty sure that it’s not meant to be like this. If it’s something about their bond kicking up then they should probably be in the same room, keeping close together to soothe it. When still no-one has come after five minutes, he presses the call button, and a nurse bustles in to take his temperature and ask him how he’s feeling. 

 

“I’m feeling fine,” he said, fairly creditably calm given the dramatics of the situation. “Where is Jensen?” 

 

“Jensen who?” the nurse says, busy strapping on a blood pressure cuff, his eyes intent on the job.

 

“The man I came in with,” Jared says, his patience almost entirely frayed. 

 

The nurse raises an eyebrow as he takes the reading. “I’m on the night-shift,” he said patiently. “You came in on a day-shift. I’ve no idea what’s happened to your companion,” then perhaps sensing a shitstorm about to start brewing- Jared was in zero mood to be accommodating right now, he held up his hands. “Let me ask at the nurse’s desk,” he said calmly. “They might know more than me.” He disappeared out the door for long enough that Jared was beginning to think it’d been a ruse to get away. When the nurse came back, there was a worried frown indented in his forehead. “He’s still sedated,” he said uncomfortably in reply to Jared’s queries. “They’re waiting for a specialist to come in for you both. You’re supposed to still be asleep as well I’m afraid.”

 

“I feel perfectly fine,” Jared said with assurance, though it was a complete lie- he felt like old limp noodles strung together and forced to talk. “I don’t want to be sedated again, I’d like to know what the hell is going on.” The thick oily anger that he’d felt right before this happened, was beginning to bubble up in his throat again, and the appearance of two doctors, one bearing a syringe that was presumably going to sedate him again was doing little to calm it. One grasped his arm with firm fingers despite his attempts to squirm away, and the other inserted it fast and he felt like cool ice was being pumped along his veins. Right before his eyes closed again, he propped them open just long enough to see the worried look he was being shot by all three. If they’d asked before, he could’ve told them that he’d need enough to fell a horse to keep him asleep. 

 

The next time he woke up it was to actual pain and not just exhaustion. As he tiredly tried to focus on what was happening, he realised that there were electrodes attached to his scalp presumably for an EEG. Not wanting to jerk them out, he called out for a nurse and from out of his peripheral vision one stepped. “Keep calm,” they said, while shooting a worried glance at the monitor beside them. “It’s just a standard test, we’ll be done in no time.”

 

“What are you doing?” he asked through lips that felt cold and numb.

 

“The person who came in with you had a seizure, and we’re checking for any similar activity in your brain,” the nurse explained, eyes still focused on the monitor. “It’s possible to do while you’re asleep though it takes longer.”

 

Jared tried fighting the urge to let his eyes droop shut again. “Tell me what’s going on,” he said spitting out the words with difficulty like they didn’t want to leave his mouth. “I have a right to know,” and a familiar panic cut through him, surpassed the remnants of sleepiness from the shot of sedative they’d given him. He sat up, feeling at least one electrode detach from him, and the nurse was right there trying to calm him, but still not giving any answers. “I want to know,” he insisted still, “where is Jensen?”

 

“You need to rest,” said the nurse firmly, pressing him back down. “Jensen is still asleep.” 

 

Jared ignored the offered placation. “Unhook me from this thing,” he said. “I’ve been asleep for hours, you must have enough data.” Methodically the nurse unhooked him and wiped the gel from his head with a tissue, since he looked ready to yank them out himself. At some point they’d changed him into a hospital gown which was infuriating in itself. His clothes were folded in the bottom of the cupboard beside him, and he struggled into them not sure of exactly what he was doing, but absolutely certain he didn’t want to be in this room.. 

 

The doctor who’d sedated him was still on shift so his second bout of sleep couldn’t have been that long. He pushed past him though and set off grimly for the reception desk. The doctor caught him by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said, and Jared yanked his arm out of his grasp and continued walking.

He hadn’t expected to see Dr Watary asleep in a chair in the waiting area, and halted in surprise. “What’s she doing here?” he asked. 

 

“She’s your primary care physician and the only one with all the details of your case, which she wasn’t releasing until you were awake and able to consent,” the other doctor said, an involuntary sneer crossing his face, showing how meaningless he thought that particular stance was. “So she stayed on hand to help care.” At that moment Dr Watary’s eyes flickered open. 

 

“Jared,” she said with an intake of breath, and as though she’d never been asleep, she was up and beside him in steps. “We need to talk,” she said urgently, and gave the other doctor a cold look. Jared got the feeling that more had happened while he was asleep than he was being given details of. She secured them a couple of seats in a small empty office, and gave him a brief rundown of what had happened while he was asleep. “You were a bit of an emergency case,” she said gravely, “which is why they phoned me. Unfortunately as Jensen isn’t a primary patient of mine and he hasn’t seen a doctor since this started we don’t really know what’s been going on with him. If you can fill any details that would be very helpful.”

 

Subdued, Jared told her everything he knew- that Jensen hadn’t said anything about feeling the same symptoms but that Jared had had the strong impression that he’d been feeling the same pain of separation as evinced by his eagerness to have sex and to spend time together. Dr Watary nodded as he finished the pathetically small recitation feeling embarrassed that he didn’t know more. 

 

“Bonds aren’t my speciality as you know,” she said, “but whatever is going on isn’t good. Jensen’s had several small seizures even while under sedation.”

 

“What does that mean?” Jared asked, feeling sudden fear wash through him at the thought. If that was what was happening to _Jensen,_ how long until it happened to him?

 

Dr Watary patted him gingerly, sending a wave of calm through him. “It means nothing,” she said quietly. “As far as we can tell there is no permanent damage from them, we just don’t know what they’re being caused by. Can you tell me what sparked all this off?”

 

“We’d just had sex,” he said bleakly and stared at his hands. “Jensen suddenly swung at me because he’d sensed another alpha and thought I’d been cheating. I fought back obviously, and then I just felt this complete and utter wave of hate. Like paralysingly so, and he just dropped and began convulsing,” he hesitated. “Do you think the two are connected?” he finally asked.

 

She regarded him thoughtfully as she stretched out her arms to get rid of a small cramp. “I’d be surprised if they weren’t,” she said finally, “but that doesn’t mean this is your fault. Bonding is a very peculiar time, all sorts of things can happen without very much explanation.” He was reminded, suddenly and irresistibly of Gen saying almost the same thing, and dropped his head down to his hands. The doctor said nothing for a little bit, and then said in quite a different tone. “I think we should find Jensen don’t you?”

 

“Will they let us in to see him?” he asked, and she stared at him for a second, until he remembered that that was part of being bonded to somebody else. He had the right to see Jensen regardless. 

 

//

 

As it happened Jensen was just coming out of his larger dose of sedative, eyelids still drooping and in the stage of finding it difficult to form words, and Jared sat awkwardly beside him, unsure whether touching him would make it worse or better. It was odd seeing Jensen like this, face smoothed out and blank, tan against the white of the bed linen, strangely intrusive in a way even. “W-hat’s going on?” he said, slurred as anything, and then “water.” Jared filled a cup of it from the carafe and at a nod from Dr Watary, held it to Jensen’s lips, careful not to actually touch his skin. That was useless though as Jensen folded his fingers round Jared’s hand to hold it steady. 

 

Jared wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to happen if they touched again- pain perhaps, or pleasure. There was nothing though, he could feel Jensen’s skin warm against him and nothing else, except maybe a thread of worry that he couldn’t be sure came from him or from Jensen. When Jensen had finished drinking, he took the cup away and sat back. He already seemed more awake, and from the irritable twitching at the EEG leads, regaining full awareness of his surroundings. “What the hell’s going on?” he said.

 

Dr Watary took pity on Jared and answered for him. “There’s something wrong with your bond with Jared. You collapsed and had to be taken to hospital.” Not unlike Jared, Jensen as soon as he felt able to move at all, was sitting up and disconnecting the wires that held him in place, with no care for the increasingly urgent beeping of the machine next to him. A doctor raced into the room, and glared at them.

 

“This is unacceptable,” she said coldly. “You’ll have to leave if you’re going to disturb the patient.” Jensen peered at her.

 

“What the hell is going on?” he said, still working on getting himself free, irascibility returning visibly with every passing second. 

 

The doctor stared at him, obviously debating the right course of action when faced with a patient so clearly uncooperative, then clearly gave up. “You have to stay,” she said, “until our specialist in bond-malformation has a chance to see you. He’s not due in until the morning so you’re going to have to rest until then. The pair of you,” she said, turning to include Jared in her look as well, and the hit of stay smacked into him like a cold salt wave. He peered at her wrist and saw the unmistakable four next to the alpha which explained it without the need for words. It didn’t seem to affect Jensen at all though, like he hadn’t even registered it. He wasn’t the only one to have noticed the tiny exchange- beside him Dr Watary shifted forwards with a frown. The doctor cleaned up Jensen, gave them all one last disapproving look then disappeared out of the door, clearly deciding not to tackle the issue of visiting hours on this particular occasion. 

 

Dr Watary looked at . “Jensen,” she said with decision. “Where’s your ID bracelet?” It’d been taken off him presumably by a nurse and left on the side of the table with the rest of his things, and she picked it up with careful fingers and looked for a long time at it, then turned to him and said softly. “Jensen, we can’t help if you’re not truthful with us about this.” She ran a fingernail over the engraved 8, and held it out to him. 

 

Jensen looked at her for a long long moment, and then at Jared. “This whole thing is ridiculous,” he said, “and I’m not doing it without pants.” They passed him his clothing and he struggled into it, then lay back on the bed to stare up at the featureless ceiling. “I’m not an eight,” he said finally. “A doctor faked it to pass me as one when I was a teenager. I’m actually null.” He looked at them both fiercely, daring them to make an issue of it. 

 

“That’s not possible,” Jared said numbly, “we bonded. Nulls can’t do that.”

 

Jensen laughed and it was an ugly sound. “Yeah that’s what they told me as well. Do you know how few alphas are null?” The question was clearly rhetorical as he continued straight on without waiting for an answer. “Almost none. And all the ones who are? They’re in the army on thirty year contracts, or they’re in prison. We’re not supposed to be null, it’s not in our genetic makeup. You know that,” he said, addressing Dr Watary.

 

“It happens,” she said quietly. “I had suspected from the first when Jared told me of the initial problems, but without having you as a patient myself I couldn’t confirm it.”

 

Jared felt as though he was losing his footing in the sea. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking at them both in turn. “What the fuck’s going on?”

 

“It was you,” Jensen said and his voice was miserable. “You’re the only one I’ve ever felt. It was like this whole extra sense just suddenly appearing. Not much of it, but suddenly I could tell when you were in a room. I could _smell_ you, and you were fucking infuriating and I didn’t know what the hell was going on. It was like sandpaper against me continually. Then you went into heat, and suddenly we were bonded and it was awful. I could feel stuff all the time and it was driving me mad.”

 

“You weren’t feeling much,” Dr Watary said. “Just Jared,” and she said it with a trace of pity in her voice. “It all makes sense now. Two level eights generally conflict so I wasn’t surprised that Jared didn’t get on with you, but this explains it so much better. The feedback loop being created between you would just exacerbate it.”

 

“If we can stop for a second,” Jared said, “Jensen was a complete fucking dick to me, and to anybody else he thought beneath his notice. I’m not actually comfortable with you saying it was because of some psi-thing. If he had a problem with me that’s one thing, but he made it clear that he didn’t even think me or anybody like me should be working near him.” He felt the familiar, strangely freeing tingle of anger that seemed to have been cropping up more and more recently. 

 

“You weren’t exactly a basket of roses either,” Jensen retorted, his face flushing. “Always being snide and superior, like you were _better_ than me in some way, and Jeff always playing favourites with you.”

 

“You sound like a child,” Jared said coldly. “Grow the hell up.”

 

“You cut me out of my own deal,” Jensen said, teeth gritting, “are you saying I should’ve been _pleased_ to have that happen? It wasn’t your fucking biology, it was that you’re a fucking douche, and I was stuck with you always hanging around in my mind.”

 

Jared was about to reply, but Dr Watary cut in. “Stop this now,” she said, and her voice was like ice. “Are you both idiots? This is exactly what led to the incident today. The angrier you get, the more it feedbacks between you, and Jensen can’t take that sort of overload. Jared, you’ve got at least a trace of psi ability and it’s cushioning you. Jensen is completely unused to it.” She stared at them both until they looked away abashed and a little ashamed of losing their control like that.

 

Making an effort to damp down his anger, Jared asked the most pertinent question all over again. “How could we bond if Jensen is null? How did he feel me _before_ we bonded?”

 

Dr Watary shrugged, and her face looked suddenly weary. “I can’t answer either of those questions,” she said. “Sometimes the bond malforms in unexpected ways and I expect that’s what’s happened here. We won’t know for certain until an expert has had a chance to examine you though, and that’s not happening until the morning at least.” She stood, and stretched. “I’m going to head home,” she said without preamble. “Some of us have work tomorrow.” She said it with a smile though, and Jared thanked her.

 

“One last question,” Jensen said as she headed for the door. “What happens next?” 

 

She paused, but didn’t turn back to him. “That’s up to you two,” she said carefully. “You’re the only ones that can decide.”

 

When she was gone, Jared slumped back in his chair and stared into space. “Going to head back to my room,” he said eventually. “No point having a dent made in my insurance and not using the fruits.” It was an effort to head out of the room, for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely, and sleep didn’t come easily. The thought of what awaited him in the morning, had his stomach roiling with emotions he couldn’t identify properly. His previous conversation with Dr Watary kept echoing round and round his head, and the terrifying solution she’d proposed as a possible answer to their situation was looking more and more like a possibility.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure at what time he dropped off, but when he was woken in the morning by a nurse with his breakfast, his eyes still felt rough and gritty from lack of sleep, and there was a flutter of fear that seemed to have set up permanent residence in his stomach. When the message came that the doctor was ready to see him it was almost a relief. 

 

The man who greeted him was almost intimidatingly tall, at least two inches taller than Jared even which was a truly novel feeling, but he seemed quietly affable and introduced himself as Eric. From instinctive habit Jared glanced at his bracelet and noted that he was a rare two, and an alpha of course. Nearly all the highest ranked empaths were alphas, which was partly why it was so bizarre that Jensen was a null, as defective in his own way as Jared was considered to be by much of the world. He sat down, and waited for the inevitable flood of feeling. Level Two’s could project strongly, he knew that much from Science Today articles, though he’d never actually met someone this highly ranked before. 

 

He could feel absolutely nothing though, and Eric explained that first thing. “I’m interested in your natural emotions Jared, so I’m dampening everything else to get a proper and accurate sense of both your rating, and what’s going on with you. Once that’s done, with your permission, I’m going to touch your head and your wrist and try and garner some more information.” He waited for a second for Jared to absorb that information. “If at any point you want to stop, I’ll need you to verbalise it since there’s always a natural resistance against this. Once we’re done, you’ll have a chance to recuperate in a separate room while I interview Jensen, then I’ll observe you both and with any luck will have teased out the root cause of the problem. Do you understand and consent to this?”

 

Jared nodded, and watched as Eric closed his eyes, though he felt fairly stupid just sitting there and waiting. He watched the clock tick past the minutes, and wondered vaguely if he was supposed to feel anything in this time. After four minutes, Eric opened his eyes and nodded, then sat on a chair in front of Jared, leaning forward until he was just inches away, to spread a hand on his head, the other finding the pulse point in Jared’s wrist with ease. Now Jared could feel something for definite, a heavy pushing sensation against his temples, a lowering ominous feeling that he disliked in the extreme. “Can you read thoughts?” he asked, since Eric had said nothing about being silent. 

 

“Not as such,” Eric replied absently, his eyes emptying of thought as he forged ahead. “I’m going to need a moment okay?” Though his palms were light as a feather against Jared’s skin physically, it felt like he was grinding his way through Jared’s head, sensations chasing each other so fast that he couldn’t analyse whether it was pain he was feeling, or just a complete disruption in his thoughts, and it wasn’t dying down, just growing more intense until he wasn’t sure that he could take it anymore. He was on the point of tapping out, when Eric finally removed his hands, and breathed out deeply as he moved his chair away, picked up a pen and began rapidly scrawling his initial impressions. “Thanks,” he said to Jared. “If you want to pop out to the waiting room, and send Jensen in after ten minutes, it’d be appreciated.” He looked pretty terrible, lines under his eyes etched in deeper and a little sweat beading on his brow as he patted it dry with a tissue. 

 

Jared headed out to the waiting room, where Jensen was sitting with a magazine, looking in substantially better shape than he had the night before. They acknowledged each other’s presence with awkward nods, and Jared sat in the chair beside him, feeling like he could do with the warmth of someone else beside him, even Jensen, after the thorough going over he’d just undergone. “How bad was it?” Jensen asked, still flicking through the magazine.

 

“Bearable,” Jared said with a shrug. “And if it helps get this sorted then all the better. Also, he’ll see you in about ten minutes,” he said.

 

“Cool,” Jensen replied, and they sat there in awkward silence a little bit longer, Jared darting surreptitious glances at Jensen from the corner of his eye. When Jensen finally headed in, he picked up the discarded magazine and read it with as little interest. Apple Morris and Darren Watson were apparently planning a summer wedding according to it, which seemed like moving fast to him. They’d only done their grand reveal a week ago after all. He’d resorted to playing with his cell surreptitiously, avoiding the beady eye of the receptionist. Jensen was in rather longer than he had been, and when he came out, he was pale, freckles that Jared had never even noticed before standing out on his skin. He slumped back down beside Jared. “Fucking liar,” he said with no heat in his voice. 

 

Jared shot him a look, and then from the goodness of his heart secured him a paper cup of water. “What did he say?” he asked Jensen with interest, but Jensen just shook his head, and slouched in his chair. Jared didn’t press the issue- they’d find out soon enough after all. When their hands brushed though, whether it was the recent encounter with a level two or the deepness of the contact, it sent a sharp stinging touch through him like his skin was too abraded to withstand any closeness at all, and this time Jensen seemed to feel it as well- he whipped his hand away with a startled look. 

 

After they were called back in, this time together, Jared spotted what looked like the results of the brain scans from earlier spready on Eric’s desk, and he held his hands together to prevent any trembling in them. “What’s the news?” he asked, voice deceptively steady, enough to fool Jensen he thought, though he doubted Eric would be taken in for a second. 

 

“Not great,” Eric said honestly. He spread open his hands as though to illustrate what he was saying. “ We can’t actually explain how you bonded at all. What we do know for certain though is that Jensen’s brain is creating additional neural pathways to accommodate this new bond and the attendant emotions. It happened too fast which prompted the minor seizures, and the negativity between you has warped it somewhat. Spending so much time apart after the initial formation wasn’t healthy, and the bond itself is definitely malformed. Only negative emotions- grief, rage, anxiety are passing between you, and that’s not the way it should be working at all, especially since you’re just magnifying them and returning them back between you.”

 

“What does that mean for us?” Jensen asks, and he’s focused and intent on the answer.

 

Eric folded his lips a little before he answered. “It’s not very good news. With enough constant psi therapy you can improve your general quality of life. You’ll be able to touch each other and be away from each other without feeling terrible. But it’ll be a very long road, very expensive and with a lot of setbacks. What’s happening with your brain Jensen is atypical in the extreme, and Jared is beginning to experience some of the same symptoms as both your brains attempt to create a full bond without the necessary resources.” He looked at Jared with what he said next. “It’s not going to help that you’re not a traditional Omega.”

 

He said it purely without judgement, but Jared’s hackles shot up anyway. “Why?” he said defensively. “Because I’m not going to drop everything in my life to make this better?” His voice was hard and angry. 

 

“Not really,” said Eric calmly. “Your brain is set into certain patterns and routines and you’re very fixed as a person. Which isn’t a bad thing at all, but it does mean that a certain flexibility and give has been sacrificed that might have aided this bond in the long run.”

 

“Fair exchange as far as I’m concerned,” Jared said with a shrug. “I’m more concerned with my happiness than making life easier for everybody else around me. If I was set on doing that I’d have bonded out of high-school.” He didn’t really see much point in lying about that.

 

“Thanks,” Jensen said, voice thick with sarcasm. “You’re not the one who is going to get the shitty end of this stick.”

 

“Makes a change,” Jared replied, and they glared at each other. 

 

Eric’s voice recalled them to the more vital area of discussion. “I’m given to understand that you’ve discussed your options with your primary care provider Dr Watary, Jared,” his voice was neutral, but Jared thought he sensed the intent behind it. Eric slid a card across the desk towards him. “She informed me that you had been given an unorthodox option. Should you choose to take this up then this person may be of use to you,” his face was blank as though what he was doing was perfectly normal. Jared picked up the card and tucked it in his pocket.

 

“Thanks,” he said, and barely heard the rest of the discussion- Jensen quizzing the doctor about any options that they might have. He tuned them out to focus on the burning weight of the card in his pocket. Un-bonding. It was the stuff of horror stories, and moralistic tales about the damage people had done to themselves and to others in attempting to harm the truest, purest form of love between two people. Which really he cared fuck all about. All he wanted to know was _did it work?_

 

It was all he could think about, even as he went back to his room to pick up his stuff- they were being discharged now that Jensen seemed to have stabilised, that and how to introduce it as an option to Jensen. As it turned out he didn’t have to. They had to take a cab back to Jared’s house, and Jensen was the one who brought it up when they arrived back and had armed themselves with coffee and food.

 

“Why do we have to do this?” he said, looking at Jared like he expected him to argue. “Seriously. If we put an end to it now, then I don’t lose my fucking mind trying to process stuff that I wasn’t meant to process, and you get to go and do whatever you want to do. I know it can be done, I’ve heard about them trialling it in Europe.”

 

Jared hesitated and then took the plunge, shared all the information he had with Jensen, and produced the card. They both let it sink in properly, then stared at each other in the one moment of true amity that they’d ever had. The irony didn’t escape Jared that the one time they completely agreed with each other was in trying to separate forever. Before he lost his nerve he said what they were both thinking. “We should phone. The quicker we do this, the fewer long term implications for us both.” He pushed the card over to Jensen. “Go on,” he said with a smirk, and Jensen gave him the finger but took it anyway and dialled the number. 

 

Jared could only hear one side of the conversation, but that was enough to leave him tense with excitement, and scared with the possibilities that were unfolding in front of them, and when Jensen put down the phone and nodded, his own eyes bright with too many emotions, he had to breathe in deep to calm himself. 

 

That night they had sex, knowing in their bones that this was one of the final times that they’d ever do so. It was slower and longer than they’d made it before, and they managed to actually make it to a bed. As Jensen pushed inside him, Jared closed his eyes too conflicted with various emotions to be able to look at Jensen. Most of him was thankful this was coming to an end. No more fighting, no more loathing, no more having to adjust everything about his life to fit Jensen in. Yet some small animal part of himself cried out against it, begged him to reconsider. This was his bonded. Against all the reasons he could muster, still part of him protested and pleaded, mad with fear at the idea of sacrificing this, however broken it was between them. He squashed it down ruthlessly, but still it insisted on rearing it’s head, and even coming couldn’t drive it away as he lay there still and quiet beside a Jensen who didn’t say a word.

 

// A week later

 

Jared felt slightly ridiculous, sitting there cross-legged on the floor while the person they’d been recommended drifted around the room, closing curtains and turning on music. He knew better than to underestimate her though, and her words still hung in the room. “You’ll still be legally bonded,” she said calmly, “there’s no way to change that without leaving yourself open to potential prosecution. But you’ll be separate again” While she set up the room to her optimal working conditions (apparently the dark relaxed her) she reminded them for the fourth time over the ultimate consequences of this. The loss of any psi-ability at all- and she’d explained in detail what that would mean, the impossibility of ever bonding again, no children for Jared at least, and the attendant life-changes. 

 

For the fourth time he agreed and nodded to her words- he’d already signed every possible waiver and document necessary, witnessed by a thin lawyer who didn’t bat an eyelid at what he was being asked to sign, and Jensen murmured his agreement along as well. When everything was ready, she knelt down beside them both and placed a cool hand on each of their foreheads. As though she were a channel, Jared felt everything that Jensen was feeling at this moment- fear, excitement and a deep underlying sense of loss, and knew that Jensen could probably feel exactly the same things coming from him. He bit back the insane urge to tell her to stop this, that they’d work it out. This was what he’d asked for. This was for the best. 

 

When he felt it actually begin, the terror increased. It felt like lights were being shut off in his brain, and without even realising it he groped for Jensen’s hand, only to find it seeking his own. This time unlike Eric’s initial probe, there was no pain, just utter blinding loss as he lost feeling after feeling, as though his neural pathways were being painlessly cauterised. His tongue felt glued to his mouth, as he fought to scream, to plead and shout no, to beg her to stop this. Words hadn’t been enough to describe this, he realised now how stupid, how foolish he’d been to think he could _understand_ what this felt like. Then it was done, and he couldn’t feel anything. He was alone in the dark, and he felt a scream clawing it’s way up his throat. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything, he was trapped in it. 

 

Then the woman threw open the curtains, and light flooded in and he realised he wasn’t blind, and as his ears adjusted that he could hear. He just couldn’t feel anything. Everything he’d taken for granted his entire life had vanished. He’d joked about being null, sometimes even believed it, but hadn’t even known that there was a subconscious current of life that he picked up, around himself always- the vague presence of others, wisps of emotions that got through, that were now completely gone.

 

“Did you feel like this all the time?” he asked Jensen haltingly, his voice rusty and sore as though at some point he _had_ screamed. He didn’t need to explain what he meant.

 

Jensen nodded. “Always,” he said. “It won’t be hard to get used to.” 

 

Jared looked at Jensen properly, for the first time ever saw him objectively- the handsome tired face, more lined now, the eyes clear and worried as they looked at him. There was no tangle of emotion, no love, no hate, no need or lust or want between them. He looked normal, Jared realised. Like a person you could like or dislike, not someone to build up out of all proportion. He looked down and realised Jensen’s hands were still in his. All he could feel was warm skin against his own, nothing else. No pain, no pleasure, nothing else. He drew in a deep shuddering breath, and closed his eyes for a moment.

 

Jensen squeezed tighter for a second before he let go. “Jared,” he said quietly. “Come out on a date with me?” 

 

Taken back by the last thing he’d ever have expected to hear, Jared blinked at him. “What?” he said, and winced at how stupid that sounded.

 

“You don’t have to,” Jensen, “and I don’t either. I’m asking you if you want us to find each other out better like this. No obligation.”

 

Already, Jared realised he had to go only on how things looked. And Jensen looked sincere, like he wanted to try this. Like they were the only two people in the world who knew exactly how this felt. Who’d been through this every step of the way. He remembered the warmth of Jensen's hand through it all, holding on tight as everything slipped away. “Yeah,” he said, hesitantly, then more firmly ‘yeah I’d like to try that.”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has kept with this story! I appreciate it. Reviews and general feedback on this story are very welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit and feedback welcome.


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